The poems of William Drummond of Hawthornden

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JUL 22 1963

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VL, JAN 1 0 1977

THE POEMS

WILLIAM DRUMMOND

VOL. I

THE POEMS OF
WILLIAM DRUMMOND

OF HAWTHORNDEX

EDITED BY

WM. C. WARD

VOL. I

LONDON :
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS, LIMITED

NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.

<i 0 0^{)

V

CONTENTS

OF THE FIRST VOLUME

Preface . . . ; . .
Introductory Memoir
Tears on the Death of Mceliades
Poems — The First Part
Poems— The Second Part .
Urania, or Spiritual Poems
Madrigals and Epigrams .
Forth Feasting ....
Notes ..,..-

PAGE

ix

17
lOI

135

147

185

203

PREFACE

In preparing the Notes to this edition of the
Poems of Wilham Drummond of Hawthornden,
I have kept two objects especially in view : to
trace the particulars of Drummond's indebted-
ness to other poets, and to illustrate the philo-
sophical side of his character as it is exhibited
in his writings. It has been generally allowed
that Drummond was strongly influenced by the
Italian poets, of whom Petrarch and Guarini
have been named as his models beyond the
rest. Nevertheless, very few instances have
hitherto been adduced in which he has directly
borrowed from either of these masters. The
course of my reading, however, has not only
confirmed the general opinion, but has proved
that the extent of his indebtedness to the
Italians is very considerable indeed. It is not
improbable that further instances of this in-

X PREFACE

debtedness may yet be discovered ; meanwhile,
the Notes to the present edition contain above
fifty poems or fragments of poems by Italian
authors, which Drummond has imitated or
paraphrased. Without undervaluing his obli-
gations to Petrarch and Guarini, the reader
will observe that he has borrowed more largely
from Marino than from any other poet.

The influence of Sidney upon Drummond's
writings has been scarcely noticed by former
editors : it is very marked, nevertheless, and I
have pointed out various passages in his poems
in which it is unmistakable. And, lastly, our
author's Platonism, which I venture to regard
as an important feature in his character, is
illustrated at some length in the Notes, and in
the Introductory Memoir.

For the text of the present edition, I have
chiefly relied upon the Poe?ns of 1616, the
second (enlarged) edition of Floiuers of Sio7i^
1630, and the magnificent edition of Drum-
mond's complete Poejns, privately printed for
the Maitland Club in 1832. Other editions
have been consulted and frequently collated ;
especially, Edward Phillips's edition of 1656,
the Edinburgh Folio of 171 1, and Mr. Laing's

PREFACE XI

Extracts from the Hawthornden MSS. in Ar-
cJi(Zologia Scotica^ vol. iv.

The principal recent authority for the Life of
Drummond is Professor Masson's exhaustive
work — DruniDiond of Hawthornden : the Story
of his Life and Writings : London, Macmillan
& Co., 1873. A few particulars which Pro-
fessor Masson has omitted, and one or two
which have come to light since the publication
of his book, will be found in the Introductory
Memoir. Further authorities are cited in the
footnotes.

No really satisfactory portrait of Drummond
exists. The portrait engraved by Gaywood, for
the first edition of Drummond's History of Scot-
land (London, 1655), is the most credible of
those that I have seen, and has been repro-
duced as a frontispiece to the present volume.

WM. C. WARD.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

"The sweetest names, and which carry a
perfume in the mention, are, Kit Marlowe,
Drayton, Drummond of Hawthornden, and
Cowley." Thus wrote one of the sweetest of
English essayists, not altogether fantastically,
as himself suggested, but induced by that fine
relish for the more recondite beauties of literary
art which left upon his own writings so de-
lightful an impress. Of the four poets whom
Charles Lamb thus classes together, none but
Kit Marlowe stands higher than Drummond
of Hawthornden. Drayton is sweet indeed,
but over long-winded, and apt at times to lose
the poet in the chronicler : Cowley, the meta-
physical Cowley, is subtle and fanciful, but too
often harsh or merely ingenious. But Drum-
mond is sweeter than Drayton, and more pro-
foundly metaphysical than Cowley, without the
harshness of the one, or the tediousness of the
other. Gifted by nature with exquisite taste,
imagination, and a contemplative disposition,
he assiduously improved his genius by the study

xvi INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

of the best models ; learning the art of verse
from Petrarch and Philip Sidney ; drinking
deep draughts of philosophy, wherein perhaps
no other English poet of his time was equally
versed, from its fountain-head, the divine Plato.
Drummond's poetry has in full measure that
" element of sensuous beauty " which William
Morris affirms to be the essence of art.* In
his sonnets he runs Sidney hard, if he do not
at times outstrip him. These, however, with
some of the madrigals, are the most perfect of
his poems, and it is even questionable if there
be any more beautiful sonnets in the English
language than the best of Drummond's.

I.

William Drummond of Hawthornden was
born of an ancient and distinguished Scottish
family. The founder of the house was one
Maurice, a Hungarian, who fled to Scotland
with Edgar Atheling, shortly after the Norman
conquest, and took service with the Scottish
king, Malcolm. His descendants gradually
spread into many branches — Drummonds of
Stobhall, of Concraig, of Cargill, of Carnock,

* Preface to Ruskin's Nature of Gothic: Kelmscott
Press, 1892.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xvii

and the rest ; finally, Drummonds of Haw-
thornden. But about the middle of the four-
teenth century the chief representative of the
family was Sir John Drummond of Stobhall,
who had four sons and four daughters. The
eldest daughter, Annabella, married Robert
Stuart, afterwards King of Scotland by the
title of Robert III., the second monarch of
the Stuart line. By him she became the mother
of the poet-king, James I,, and thereby ances-
tress of the royal house of Stuart. From Sir
Malcolm Drummond, the eldest son of Sir
John, were descended in a direct line the Lords
Drummond of Stobhall and the Earls of Perth,
the heads of the house of Drummond. The
third son of Sir John of Stobhall was Sir
William Drummond, who acquired the lands
of Carnock in Fifeshire by his marriage with
Elizabeth Airth, and founded the branch known
as Drummonds of Carnock. From this Sir
William the fourth in descent was Sir Robert
Drummond of Carnock, who had several sons.
The eldest, Patrick, succeeded in due course
to his father's title and estate ; the second be-
came Sir John Drummond of Hawthornden,
the father of our poet,*

* Douglas's Peerage of Scotland, and the Genealogy
of the House of Drutnmond, by William Drummond,
Viscount Strathallan : Edinburgh, 1831.

xviii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

Concerning John Drummond of Hawthorn-
den little has been recorded. What manner of
man he was may be partly conjectured from his
portrait at Hawthornden, which presents him,
to quote Professor Masson's description, " as he
must have been in the first days of his gentle-
man-ushership to James VI, — the face light-
complexioned, and very manly and handsome,
with the light hair tinged to red round the
mouth, and a most winning expression of sweet
temper.""^ He was born in 1553; married
Susanna Fowler ; and was appointed, not later
than 1587, gentleman-usher to the King.t About
1590 his wife's brother, William Fowler, ob-
tained the post of private secretary to Queen
Anne. William Fowler, it is interesting to note,
was a man of literary tastes, much addicted to
the making of anagrams, but a producer also of
sonnets and other miscellaneous verse, includ-
ing some translations from Petrarch, which re-
main unpublished. He was the author of one
of the commendatory sonnets prefixed to King
James's Essayes of a Prentise in the divine
Art of Poesie^ published at Edinburgh in 1585.
Many of Fowlei-'s papers were preserved by his

* Drumjtwnd of Hawthorndc7i : London, 1873: p. 453,
f He was certainly usher to the King in July 1587.

^t& Register of the Privy Council of Scotland, ed. Masson,

vol. iv. p. 199.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xix

nephew the poet, and are still extant among
the Hawthornden MSS. in possession of the
Society of Antiquaries of Scotland.*

By his acquisition of the Hawthornden estate,
some seven miles south-east of Edinburgh,
John Drummond became a laird, or landed
proprietor. There, in the old house of Haw-
thornden, overlooking the romantic glen of the
North Esk, was born, on the 13th of December
1585, his eldest son, William. Three more
sons — James, Alexander, t and John ; and three
daughters — Anna, Jane, and Rebecca, followed.

* Two volumes of manuscript poetry by Fowler, in-
cluding a translation of Petrarch's THzimphs, are in the
Edinburgh University Library, to which they were pre-
sented by the poet Drummond in 1627.

t Mention is made of the poet's brother Alexander
in the Register of the Privy Council of Scotland, ed.
Masson, vol. ix. p. 215. On the 9th of July 1611,
Alexander Drummond and certain other gentlemen were
committed to prison by the Lords of the Council for
making "a verie grite trouble and commotioun " in the
High Street of Edinburgh, even to the pursuing one
another with drawn swords for their lives ! The disturb-
ance originated in a feud between the Livingstons and
the Cockburns, Alexander Drummond taking part with
the former, of whose house the Earl of Linlithgow was
the head. A little later the chiefs of the two parties
and their friends, amongst whom Alexander Drumn-iond
is again mentioned, appeared before the Council to
make a formal renunciation of their quarrel, having
"choppit handis and imbraceit ane another" {Ibid.
p. 240).

XX INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

The second son, James, alcne of the family,
survived the poet. Anna married a Mr. John
Scot, whom we shall know hereafter as Sir John
Scot of Scotstarvet ; Rebecca married a Mr.
William Douglas of Bonjedwart.

William Drummond received his education at
the Edinburgh High School, and subsequently
at the new University of Edinburgh, where he
took the degree of M.A., July 27, 1605. One
of his teachers at the university, the Professor
of Humanity, Mr. John Ray, was long after-
wards commemorated by him in a sonnet
overflowing with grateful enthusiasm. " Bright
Ray of learning ! " he terms his old master, in
the punning fashion of the time. And Drum-
mond was doubtless an apt pupil. Throughout
his life the love of books and study was strong
within him, and, as his earliest biographer
notes, "his greatest familiarity and conversa-
tion was with the university men and men of
learning." *

But while Drummond was still pursuing his
studies at the university, all Scotland had been
agitated by a great political change. In 1603,
by the death of Queen Elizabeth, the King of
Scots had become also King of England, and
the Court had been in consequence removed

* Memoir by Bishop Sage, prefixed to the folio edi-
tion of Drummond's Woris: Edinburgh, 1711 : p. vii.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xxi

to London. With the Court went Dnimmond's
father and his uncle Fowler. John Drummond
was knighted at Whitehall on the 23rd of July
1603,* and probably passed much of the re-
mainder of his life in attendance upon the King.
At all events, we find him with the Court at
Greenwich some three years later, when his
son W^illiam paid his first visit to London.t
The young man had completed his studies at
the university, and it had been decided that he
should enter the legal profession ; though one
may doubt whether Drummond himself re-
garded that decision with unqualified approval.
Moreover, Edinburgh not affording at that time
sufficient advantages for the training of a lawyer,
it was settled that he should go to France to
study his profession. This scheme he accord-
ingly carried out, though in somewhat leisurely
fashion ; proceeding by way of England, and
spending the summer of 1606 in London and
its vicinity on his way to the Continent.

The period of his stay in London must
indeed have passed all too quickly. In this
new experience of life there would be much
to gratify the taste and captivate the fancy

* Nichols's Progresses of King Jajnes the First, vol. i.
p. 208.

t Register of the Privy Council of Scotland, vol. vii.
p. 490.

xxii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

of a romantic young student, fresh from the
schools. Drummond had an artist's love of
pageantry and splendid spectacles, and he
could now indulge this liking to his heart's
content. His connections gave him the free-
dom of the Court, and he would probably find
little difficulty in procuring some glimpses at
least of the literary circles of the metropolis.
Six letters written by him at this period to a
noble friend in Scotland have been published.*
They contain a lively description of the revels
and festivities prepared to celebrate the visit
of the Queen's brother^ King Christian of Den-
mark. Some of the passages read almost like
pages from Amadis of Gaul. There is " the
challenge of the Errant Knights, proclaimed
with sound of trumpet before the palace gate
of Greenwich." The challengers offered to
maintain " by all the allowed ways of knightly
arguing," viz., by lance and sword, four " in-
disputable propositions" in praise of Love and
Beauty. The tourney was to take place irf the
valley of Mirefleur — romantic for Greenwich
Park. One of the challengers, as Drummond

* Drummond*s Works, folio, 1711 : pp. 231-233.
These six letters were written from Greenwich, where
the Court was. Drummond was doubtless staying with
his father, the King's gentleman-usher. The first letter
is dated June i, the last August 12, 1606.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xxiii

would doubtless remark with interest, was Sir
Philip Sidney's nephew, William Herbert, Earl
of Pembroke, a man only less generally be-
loved and admired than his glorious uncle.
A quarter of a century earlier Sidney himself
had taken part in a similar display, in the
presence of the Maiden Queen. It is not in-
excusable, perhaps, to note even so trifling a
circumstance as this, which connects in some
way the names of Sidney and Drummond ; for
the resemblance between the two men was con-
siderable. The same high-minded, chivalrous
disposition prevailed in both, although Sidney's
character had a practical side which was want-
ing to the contemplative Drummond. This,
too, is certain : that Sidney's influence is more
strongly and unmistakably apparent in the
writings of Drummond than that of any other
English poet. But to return to our pageant.

Besides the tourney, the royal visitor was to
be regaled with "the mai-vellous adventures
of the Lucent Pillar," which were at length to
be revealed to the wonder of men, as Merlin
had prophesied of old. Possibly the period of
Merlin's prediction had not been correctly com-
puted ; at all events, we hear nothing more
from Drummond of the Lucent Pillar. But
when the Danish King arrived, about the middle
of July, there were abundant splendours for his

xxiv INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

delectation : " nothing to be heard at Court but
sounding of trumpets, hautboys, music, revel-
lings, and comedies." On the 5th of August,
moreover, there was tilting at Greenwich, where
King Christian, mounted on a dapple-gray, and
wearing sky-coloured armour spangled with
gold, with a bunch of blue and white plumes in
his helm, " broke some staves with a marvel-
lous grace, and great applause of the people."

With all this chivalric display young Drum-
mond was evidently delighted. But alas for
the evanescence of earthly joys ! On the 12th
of August he writes : " None of our pleasures
are lasting ; they, as all human things, have
their end. The King of Denmark, the 9th of
this month, taking his leave of his sister and
His Majesty (who with tears in their eyes re-
turned), went towards his ships to Gravesend " :
has departed, in fact, leaving " a general com-
mendation in this island of his virtues."

A clearer insight into the tastes and disposi-
tion of Drummond may be derived from the
lists of books which he read from 1606 to 1614 :
lists still extant at Edinburgh in his own hand-
writing.* As might be anticipated, works of

* Printed among Mr. David Laing's Extracts from
the Hawthornden MSS., in Transactions of the Society
of Antiquaries of Scotland {ArchcBologia Scotica), vol.
iv. pp. 73-76.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xxv

poetr)^ predominate. There is a good sprink-
ling of romance, and a modest choice of mis-
cellaneous literature, including some books of
histor\' and theology. Among the books read
by Drummond in the year 1606, we note with
particular interest Shakespeare's /Borneo, Love's
Labour's Lost^ Midsummer Nighfs Dreayn,
Lucrece, and the Passionate Pilgriinj Knox's
Chro7iicles (i.e., LListory of the Refor7natio7i in
Scotland) ; Alexander's Aurora; Sidney's Ar-
cadia; Lyly's Euphues ; and certain volumes
of Amadis and of the Dia?ia of Montemayor.
Nor, even thus early, was Drummond's love
of poetry evinced in his reading alone. It is
beyond doubt that he was already in the habit
of scribbling verses ; among his posthumous
works are printed three or four little poems, or
fragments of poems, which date back in all
probability to his boyhood.

Drummond now proceeded to France, where
he appears to have remained for two or three
years, studying civil law at Bourges — with
great diligence, according to Bishop Sage. !More
congenial studies, however, were by no means
neglected. In his lists for the years 1607-1609
we note the names of Rabelais, of Ronsard, of
Du Bartas, Muret, and Pontus de Tyard ; of
Tasso and Sanazzaro (these in French transla-
tions) ; the Orla?ido Furioso. also in French ;

xxvi INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

Latin poems of Cardinal Bembo and other
Italian writers; Ainadis of Gaul 2LX\d the Diana^
in French ; the tragedies of Seneca ; and Oracula
SibyllcE^ in Greek. In 1609 we again find Eng-
lish books on the list: Sidney's Arcadia^ for the
second time of reading ; the poems of Samuel
Daniel ; and Davison's Poetical Rhapsody ; but
these Drummond probably read after his return
from the Continent. Only one work is included
which has even the most distant connection
with his intended profession — the Institutes of
Justifiian.

A long letter of Drummond's, dated Paris,
February 12, 1607, and addressed to. his friend
Sir George Keith of Powburn, affords the only
picture which remains to us of his life abroad.*
This letter is in several respects highly charac-
teristic of the writer. A stately diction, recall-
ing the language of his favourite romances ; a
love of beauty, which peeps out in a hundred
picturesque touches in Drummond's verse ; a
fanciful vein of moralising : these are the
marked features of the young student's letter,
and not less of the maturer writings of the
poet.

* Printed in the folio edition of Drummond's Works,
pp. 139-141. The year is not given, but was supphed
by Mr. David Laing from the MS. (See Arch-cEologia
Scotica, vol. iv. p. 98.)

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xxvii

" Sir," he begins, " when, out of curiosity,
this last week I had entered those large and
spacious galleries in which the Fair of St. Ger-
mains is kept, and had viewed the diverse
merchandise and wares of the nations at that
mart, above the rest I was much taken with
the daintiness of the many portraits there to
be seen- The devices, posies, ideas, shapes,
and draughts of the artificers were various,
nice, and pleasant. Scarce could the wander-
ing thought light upon any story, fable, or
gaiety which was not here represented to the
view. If Cebes, the Theban philosopher, made
a table hung in the temple of Saturn the argu-
ment of his rare moralities ; and Jovius and
Marini, the portraits in their galleries and
libraries the subject of some books ; I was
brought to think I should not commit a great
fault if I sent you for a token, from this
mart, a scantling of this ware, which affordeth
a like contentment to the beholder and pos-
sessor."

After enumerating various paintings, histori-
cal or mythological, Drummond continues :
" The father of our fictions, Meonides himself,
was here represented, with closed eyes, and a
long beard of the colour of the night ; to whom
was the honour of Mantua adjoined, his head
wreathed with bays, his face was somewhat

xxviii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

long, his cheeks scarce with a small down
descrying his sex. . . . The Cyprian goddess
was in diverse shapes represented. The first
was naked as she appeared on the hills of Ida,
or when she arose from her foamy mother ; but
that she should not blush, the painter had
limned her entering a green arbour, and look-
ing over her shoulder, so that there were only
seen her back and face. . . . The third had
drawn her lying on a bed with stretched-out
arms ; in her hand she presented to a young
man (who was adoring her, and at whom little
Love was directing a dart) a fair face, which
with much ceremony he was receiving ; but on
the other side, which should have been the
hinder part of that head, was the image of
Death ; by which Mortality he surpassed the
others, more than they did him by Art. It
were to be wished this picture were still before
the eyes of doting lovers."

Further on he describes "the picture of a
young lady, whose hair drew near the colour
of amber, but with such a bright lustre that it
was above gold or amber ; her eyes were some-
what green, her face round, where the roses
strove to surpass the lilies of her cheeks ; and
such an one she was limned as Apelles would
have made choice of for the beauty of Greece.
She was said to be the Astrea of the Marquis

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xxix

D'Urfe."* Bright amber hair, greenish eyes,
and cheeks of roses and hHes, remained, as
we find by his poems, Drummond's ideal of
feminine beauty.

The concluding paragraph of the letter is
this : " Now when I had considered all (for
these galleries were a little All, if you please),
casting mine eyes aside, I beheld on a fair table
the portraits of two, which drew my thoughts
to more seriousness than all the other. The
first, clothed in a sky-coloured mantle, bordered
with some red, was laughing, and held out his
finger, by way of demonstration, in scorn to
another, in a sable mantle, who held his arms
across, declined his head pitifully, and seemed
to shed tears. The one showed that he was
Democritus, the other that he was Heraclitus.
And truly considering all our actions, except
those which regard the service and adoration of
God Almighty, they are either to be lamented
or laughed at ; and man is always a fool,
except in miser}', which is a whetstone of judg-
ment."

Drummond returned to Scotland in 1609.
He seems, after all, to have made some pro-

* Astrie, D'Urf^'s famous pastoral romance, was not
yet published, though it is evident from Drummond's
allusion, that it was already talked about. The first
volume appeared in 1610.

XXX INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

gress m the study of the law, and "brought
home not only the dictates of the professors,
but also his own observations on them ; which
the worthy, learned, and judicious President
Lockhart seeing, said, that if our author had
followed the practice, he might have made the
best figure of any lawyer in his time." * But
the Fates had otherwise decreed. In 1610
Drummond again visited London. The same
year his father died, and was buried in the
Abbey of Holyrood. Whereupon the young
man renounced for ever all thoughts of a legal
career, to cultivate retired leisure and the Muse
in his quiet home at Hawthomden.

IL

The heroic age of Scottish poesy had passed
away when Drummond entered the field. To
the sturdy singers of the old school, the Dun-
bars and Lindsays, no successor had appeared.
Indeed, for many years the troubled condition
of the nation had been unfavourable to the
cultivation of poetry. More than all besides,
the stem Calvinism of the Scots, "as killing
as the canker to the rose,'' had contributed to

* Dnimmond's Works, folio, 171 1 : Memoir, p. ii.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xxxi

its decline. Here and there a scholar still
found occasional relaxation in the turning of
Latin verses, or a courtier wrote sonnets in
the vernacular of England, which was gradually
replacing the Scottish idiom as a means of
literary expression ; but as a national art,
Scottish poetry was practically extinct at the
beginning of the seventeenth century. The
most distinguished, perhaps the most meri-
torious, Scottish poet of this time was William
Alexander of Menstrie, who wrote in English
as unprovincial as Sidney's own, and whose
style shows clearly the influence of Italian
models. Nor was Drummond, who was already
the admirer and soon to become the bosom
friend of Alexander, better qualified to aid in
the resuscitation of a national art. Endowed
by nature with a far richer vein of poetry than
Menstrie's, his Muse, like his friend's, was
completely exotic. It could not well be other-
wise. Scotsman at heart, and true lover of his
countr}', as he was, he had few feelings in
common with the vast majority of his country-
mxen. Their religious fanaticism, the breath of
their national life, was hateful to him, and as
his years increased the difference grew ever
wider and more hopeless.

But we anticipate. Drummond was now
established at his "sweet and solitary seat" of

xxxii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

Hawthornden, studying the Greek and Latin
authors, as well as the Italian poets whose in-
fluence upon his own writings was so marked.
Among the books which he read during the
years 1610-1612, we note the J^tme of Petrarch,
the Pastor Fido of Guarini, Riine and Arcadia
of Sanazzaro, with various works of Tasso,
Bembo, Rinaldi, Contarini, and Coquinato. Of
English books read during the same period
the most noteworthy are Spenser's Faery
Queen, Ainoretti, and Epithalainiu}>i, poems of
Drayton and Alexander, Ben Jonson's Epi-
grams, Bacon's Essays, and Puttenham's Art
of English Poesy. The Hawthornden MSS.
include lists, in Drummond's handwriting,
of the books which constituted his library
at Hawthornden in 161 1. Of Italian books
there are 61 ; of Spanish, 8 ; of French, 120 ;
of English, 50 ; of Greek, 35 ; of Hebrew, 11 ;
of Latin, 164, comprising 31 of theology, 24
of law, 54 of philosophy, and 55 of poetry :
lastly, there is "an additional list, chiefly of
classics or miscellaneous Latin authors, con-
taining 103 books." "^ A total of 552 books in
seven languages.

Drummond's love of retirement was certainly
unaffected. It is evinced not only by many

* Archceologia Scotica, vol. iv. p. jj.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xxxiii

passages in his writings, but by the whole
tenor of his life. That Court preferment was
open to him, had he cared to accept it, can
hardly be doubted. His family connections, his
influential friends, his notorious royahsm, his
fame as a poet, to say nothing of certain effusive
bits of adulator}^ verse addressed to King James
and King Charles, had surely made smooth for
him the path to worldly honours if he had
chosen to follow it. But he seems at no time
to have sought or desired such vain distinc-
tions ; appraising them rather at their true
worth, as " gilded glories which decay." In
the sweet seclusion of Hawthornden, amid his
books and papers, he led a life contemplative
and studious, but, in these early years at least,
by no means gloomy. " He was not much
taken up," writes his old biographer, " with the
ordinary amusements of dancing, singing, play-
ing, &c., tho' he had as much of them as a well-
bred gentleman should have ; and when his
spirits were too much bended by severe studies,
he unbended them by playing on his lute, which
he did to admiration. But the most part of his
time was spent in reading the best books, and
conversing with the learnedest men, which he
improved to great advantage." * And again :

* Drummond's Works, 171 1 : Memoir, p. iii.

xxxiv INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

" He never sought after riches and honours, but
rather decHned them. ... He used always that
of Mirandola, in his free discourse, Meis libris^
vieis oculis contentus^ a puero usque infra fortu-
na7n vivere didici; et quantum possum apud
me habitayis^ nihil extra 7ne aut suspiro aut
ambioJ'' *

It was probably in the year 1612 that
Drummond became personally acquainted with
William Alexander of Menstrie, whose poems
he had long known and admired. Alexander
was some seventeen years the elder, having
been born about 1568. He was Sir William
now ; knighted in 1609 ; and gentleman of the
chamber to the King's eldest son, Prince Henry.
Better than this, he was a poet of established
reputation, and of some real merit, albeit his
vein was not of the richest. Having Court
duties to fulfil, Sir William resided for the most
part in England ; but it so happened that he was
at his house of Menstrie, in Clackmannanshire,
at a time when fortune brought Drummond into
that neighbourhood. The story of their meet-
ing is told by Drummond in a letter (undated)
to a friend.

" Fortune this last day was so favourable as
b)y plain blindness to acquaint me with that

* Drummond's Works, 171 1 : Memoir, p. x.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xxxv

most excellent spirit and rarest gem of our
north, S. W. A. [Sir W. Alexander]; for,
coming near his house, I had almost been a
Christian father to one of his children. He
accepted me so kindly, and made me so good
entertainment (which, whatsomever, with him
I could not have thought but good), that I can-
not well show. Tables removed, after Honier's
fashion well satiate, he honoured me so much as
to show me his books and papers. This much I
will say, and perchance not without reason dare
say, if the heavens prolong his days to end his
Day, he hath done more in one Day than Tasso
did all his life, and Bartas in his two weeks,
though both the one and the other be most
praiseworthy. I esteemed of him before I was
acquaint with him, because of his works ; but I
protest henceforth I will esteem of his works
because of his own good, courteous, meek dis-
position. He entreated me to have made longer
stay ; and, believe me, I was as sorry to depart
as a new-enamoured lover would be from his
mistress." *

* A7-ch(Eologia Scotica, vol. iv. p. 83, The date of
this meeting is unknown, but it was certainly not later
than 1612. Professor Masson gives the year 1614, but
on the supposition that Alexander was knighted in that
year ; Drumniond referring to him in the letter above
quoted as S[ir] W. A. It now appears, however, that
he was knighted in 1609 : see the article Alexander,

xxxvi INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

The words "hath done more in one Day"
refer to a poem entitled Doomsday, which
Alexander had evidently shown to Drummond
in the manuscript, and which he published in
1614. I am afraid no one will now be found
of Drummond's mind as to its merits.

The acquaintance thus happily begun soon
ripened into an intimacy which endured until
the death of Alexander. The two poets ad-
dressed each other by the title of brother :
they wrote verses to one another under the
names of Alexis and Damon ; and when
Alexis obliged the world with the first edition
of his Doomsday, Damon commended the per-
formance in a sonnet in which he compared
his friend to Phoebus.

In 1613 Drummond made his first public
appearance as a poet. The occasion was an
event which cast a real gloom over the English
and Scottish nations — the death, on the 6th of

by Dr. Grosart, in the Diet, of National Biography.
A commendatory sonnet by Alexander is prefixed to
the first edition of Drummond's Tears on the Death of
Moeliades, which must have been pubUshed early in
1613. In Arch. Scot. (iv. p. 84) is printed a letter from
Drummond to Alexander, which the editor, David
Laing, conjectures, with great probability, to have been
written shortly after the death of Prince Henry (Nov. 6,
1612) ; though the allusion is too vague to pronounce
positively upon.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xxxvii

November 1612, of Henry, Prince of Wales ; a
gallant and promising youth, by all accounts,
who had not completed his nineteenth year.
The poets, as was then expected of them,
came forward in crowds, each with his bit
of memorial verse, and Drummond, almost as
a matter of course, added his tribute to the
rest. An Elegie on the Death of Prince Henrie^
by Sir William Alexander, was published about
the end of 16 12 by the leading bookseller of
Edinburgh, Andro Hart. Alexander's concern
was indeed personal, for he had long been
intimately connected with the young Prince.
A little later appeared Drummond's contribu-
tion to the national lamentation. It consisted
of a pastoral elegy, entitled Tears 07t the Death
of Mceltades, and three shorter pieces. The
elegy was published by Andro Hart, "at his
shop on the north side of the High Street, a
little beneath the Cross," in 161 3, and was
generally admired, a second edition being
issued the same year, and a third in 1614.

Nor was the general admiration ill deserved.
In Tears on the Death of Ma;liades the fervour
of a poet is combined with the skill of an
accomplished artist. The versification is flow-
ing and melodious, but without monotony ;
the words are nicely adapted to the sense,
now heavy with lamentation, now echoing the

xxxviii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

clangour of "shrill-sounding trumpets" and the
confused clash of arms, and again pulsing in
solemn cadence as the poet sings of that un-
imagined world where the freed spirit is at
rest. Especially beautiful are the last two para-
graphs, where Drummond's religious sentiment
finds noble expression, and where, too, we may
recognise a premonition of that philosophic
strain of thought which holds so promment
a place in some of his later writings.

The poems which Drummond next produced
were written upon a subject nearer to his heart.
Apart from such intimations as his verses afford,
all that we know of the story of his love is
contained in the following extract from the
memoir prefixed to the folio edition of his
works : " Notwithstanding his close retirement
and serious application to his studies. Love
stole in upon him, and did entirely captivate
his heart ; for he was on a sudden highly
enamoured of a fine, beautiful young lady,
daughter to Cunningham of Bams, an ancient
and honourable family. He met with suitable
returns of chaste love from her, and fully gained
her affections ; but when the day for the mar-
riage was appointed, and all things ready for
the solemnisation of it, she took a fever, and
was suddenly snatched away by it, to his great
grief and sorrow."

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xxxix.

Barns, the seat of the young lady's father,
lies on the north coast of the Firth of Forth,
between Crail and Kilrenny, in the eastern
part of Fife. Drummond's brother-in-law,
John Scot, with his wife and family, resided in
the same county, at no great distance from the
Cunninghams. In the autumn of 1611, John
Scot, then a young lawyer of five and twenty,
and Director of the Scottish Chancery, had
acquired considerable landed property in Fife,
including the barony of Tarvet, near Cupar,
from which he gave the general name of Scots-
tarvet to the whole of his Fifeshire estates.
He was a man of education and literary pro-
pensities,^ shrewd and thrifty w^ithal, and in
many respects unlike Drummond, though be-
tween them there subsisted a mutual regard
and some community of tastes. A part of
Scotstar\-et's estate lay in the immediate vicinity
of Barns, and it is likely enough that Drummond
was on a visit to his brother-in-law when he

* Still remembered as the author of Scot of Scotstarvet' s
Staggering State of Scots Statesmen: "a. Homily on
Life's Nothingness, enforced by examples ; gives in brief
compass, not without a rude laconic geniality, the cream
of Scotch Biographic History in that age, and uncon-
sciously a curious self-portrait of the writer withal"
(Carlyle's Cromwell, vol. i. p. 315, note; ed. 1857).
Some Latin poems by Scot of Scotstarvet are printed in.
DeliticB Poetarum Scotorinn : Amsterdam, 1637.

xl INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

made the acquaintance of the beautiful Miss
Cunningham. The lady, if we may trust a
poet's description of his mistress, had just such
golden hair and greenish eyes as had charmed
him, years before, in the Astrea of the St.
Germains galleiy. Seldom has lady fair been
celebrated by her sei-vant in sweeter and more
musical verse than that which Drummond
penned to perpetuate her beauty and his pas-
sion. There is yet extant a letter of his, sent
to some lady with an offering of verse — a letter
undated and unaddressed, which nevertheless
I refer with confidence to Miss Cunningham
of Barns. "Here," he writes, "you have the
poems, the first fruits your beauty and many,
many good parts did bring forth in me. Though
they be not much worth, yet (I hope) ye will,
for your own dear self's sake, deign them some
favour, for whom only they were done, and
whom only I wish should see them. Keep
them, that hereafter, when Time, that changeth
everything, shall make wither those fair roses
of your youth, among the other toys of your
cabinet they may ser\'e for a memorial of what
once was, being so much better than little
pictures, as they are like to be more lasting ;
and in them are the excellent virtues of your
rare mind limned, though, I must confess, as
painters do angels and the celestial world.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xli

which represent them no ways as they are,
but in mortal shapes and shadows," "^

A short year or two of happiness, and then
the blow fell, and the lover's life was shadowed
with a lasting gloom. Probably in 1615, Miss
Cunningham died.t Drummond continued to
write, immortalising his sorrow as he had im-
mortalised his hopes. In the little volume of
verse which he published with Andro Hart in
1 6 16, the principal place is given to a sequence
of poems— sonnets, songs, and madrigals —
divided, as Petrarch had divided the stoiy of

* ArchcEologia Scotica, vol. iv. p. 83.

t The only positive intelligence which we have of
Drummond in 1615 is contained in the following extract
from the Register of the Privy Council of Scotland
(vol. X. p. 831), dated Edinburgh, March 2, 1615 : —
' ' The Lordis of Secreit Counsaill, for ressonable causis
moving thame, hes gevin and grantit, and be thir
presentis gevis and grantis, licence and libertie to Mr.
Johnne Scott of Scottistarvatt, Director of his Majes-
teis Chancellarie, and to Mr, William Drummond of
Hathorndaill, to eatt fleshe at all times quhen they sail
think expedient during this forbiddin time of Lentroun,
fra the xxi day of Februer lastbipast to the feist of
Pasche nixttocum " [next to come!]. The editor,
Professor Masson, conjectures from this that Scot and
Drummond were spending Lent together, and wished
to enjoy themselves without the drawback of Lenten
fare. Accepting this conjecture, I should be inclined to
put the death of Miss Cunningham later in the year.
Drummond's uncle, William Fowler, had died in the
preceding year, 1614.

xlii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

his love and grief, into two parts ; in the first
of which the poet sings the praises of his Hving
mistress, in the second laments her untimely-
death. These poems include many of the
ripest and most finished productions of Drum-
mond's Muse. His studies in Italian poetry
had- borne good fruit. Not only is his verse
cast in an Italian mould, but it is largely im-
pregnated with Italian sentiment. He follows
Petrarch both in the general arrangement and
in particular instances. Nor does he restrict
himself to imitation, but often translates directly
from the Italian, especially from the poems
of Petrarch, Tasso, Marino, Sanazzaro, and
Guarini. From the frequency of his transla-
tions from Marino, it appears that the latter
was an especial favourite with him ; partly, I
believe, on account of a certain metaphysical
tendency which finds expression in some of
Marino's pieces, and which was nearly akin to
Drummond's own way of thinking. It is some-
what remarkable, by the way, that Drummond
scarcely ever adopts the true Italian form of
the sonnet, preferring to end with a rhymed
couplet, as Shakespeare and Sidney had done
before him. He says of himself "that he was
the first in the Isle that did celebrate a mistress
dead, and Englished the madrigal." "^

* Folio, 171 1 : Memoir, p. v.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xliii

I have already adverted to the fact that
Drummond was influenced by Sidney, who,
like himself, owed much to the Italians. Upon
the whole, Drummond's poems to his mistress
bear a closer resemblance, both in manner and
matter, to the splendid sequence of sonnets
which has immortalised the names of Astrophel
and Stella, than to any other production of an
English poet. It were perhaps rash to assert
that Sidney is the only English poet to whom
Drummond, in a literary point of view, was
seriously indebted ; but I find in his writings
few traces of the influence of others. On two or
three occasions he has borrowed from Shake-
speare, and a curious search may reveal some
kindred touches in Daniel's Son7iets to Delia.
He had long known Alexander's Aurora: a
series of Petrarchan sonnets, &c., addressed
to a lady whom the poet had loved and lost ;
not indeed by death, but through her prefer-
ence for another. But Alexander's Aurora^
though Drummond admired the poetry and
loved the poet, w^as hardly a source from
whence his own far stronger oMuse could derive
much inspiration. His models, then, were
Sidney and the Italians. At times he would
take Sidney's very phrases, as his wont was
with his favourite poets, and weave them cun-
ningly into the web of his own verse. In a

xliv INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

more general way, his affinity to Sidney is
often strikingly displayed in the style and
matter of his poems : some of his sonnets
would not seem at all out of place among those
sonnets to Stella.

But with all these influences and imitations,
the term plagiarist, in a derogatory sense, can-
not with justice be applied to Drummond. If
he sometimes deck himself in borrowed plum-
age, he wears it with a grace which is altogether
his own. In the closest of his translations he
never allows us to forget that the translator
also is a poet. The many productions of his
pen which are wholly original, afford ample
proof that it was not from poverty of invention
that he became a borrower. His was the full
equipment of the poet, and what he took from
others he had made already his own by sym-
pathy and delight. In one respect he was
greater than his models, if not as a poet, yet
as a thinker. Certain pieces in the volume of
1616 — especially the beautiful " Song" in which
he describes the apparition of his mistress after
her death — already show a depth of philosophic
thought unusual among poets of any age, perhaps
unique as regards those of his own time. At a
later period this characteristic of Drummond
was more fully developed. It found, perhaps,
its completest expression in his prose essay.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xlv

A Cypress Grove^ which proves him to have
been deeply influenced by the philosophy of
Plato. It is shown, too, in several of the poems
in his Flowers of Sion, though always coloured
to some extent, as was indeed inevitable, by the
Christianity in which he was a devout, though
for his time a singularly open-minded believer.
Drummond had in him, in fact, the making of
a Platonic philosopher ; but, as Sir Thomas
Browne would have said, he " Christianised his
notions."

Besides the poems on his mistress, the little
quarto of 1616 contains a reprint of Tears 011 the
Death of Mcelzades, with a sonnet and a " pyra-
midal " epitaph on the same subject ; a few
religious or philosophical pieces under the title
of Urania, or Spiritual Poe7ns ; and a collection
Df Madrigals atid Epigrams. The Madrigals
and Epigrams are probably, for the most part,
of an earlier date than the rest of the book :
many of them are translations from the Italian.
The poems latest written I should judge to be
the Urania, in which Drummond's Christianity
is for the first time in his writings clearly pro-
nounced. But to this subject we shall revert
hereafter.

On page 226 of the folio edition of his works
is printed, urder the title of A Character of
Several Authors, a fragment of criticism by

:xlvi INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

Drummond, some extracts from which will not
'be without interest to the reader. It appears
from internal evidence to have been written
after the publication of the first part of Dray-
ton's Polyolbio7i in 1612, and before the death
of Shakespeare in 1616. Drummond writes : —
"The authors I have seen on the subject of
Love are the Earl of Surrey, Sir Thomas Wyat
(whom, because of their antiquity, I will not
match with our better times), Sidney, Daniel,
Drayton, and Spenser. He who writeth The
.Art of E7iglish Poesy* praiseth much Raleigh
and Dyer ; but their works are so few that have
come to my hands, I cannot well say anything
of them. The last we have are Sir William
Alexander and Shakespeare, who have lately
published their works. . . . The best and most
exquisite poet of this subject, by consent of the
whole senate of poets, is Petrarch. S. W. R.,t
in an epitaph on Sidney, calleth him our English
Petrarch ; and Daniel regrets he was not a

* Attributed to George Puttenham.

f Sir Walter Raleigh, whose epitaph on Sidney is
printed on pp. 5-7 of the Aldine edition of his poems,
London, 1875. The expression alluded to by Drum-
imond occurs in the last stanza, which is as follows : —

"That day their Hannibal died, our Scipio fell, —
Scipio, Cicero, and Petrarch of our time ;
Whose virtues, wounded by my worthless rhyire.
Let angels speak, and heaven thy praises tel, *

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xlvii

Petrarch, though his Deha be a Laura."^ . . .
The French have also set him before them as
a paragon ; whereof we still find that those of
our English poets who have approached nearest
to him are the most exquisite on this subject
[Love]. When I say approach him, I mean
not in following his invention, but in forging
as good ; and when one matter cometh to them
all at once, who quintessenceth it in the finest
substance.

"Among our English poets Petrarch is imi-
tated, nay surpassed in some things, in matter
and manner : in matter, none approach him
to Sidney, who hath songs and sonnets inter-
mingled : in manner, the nearest I find to him
is \V. Alexander, who, insisting in these same
steps, hath sextains, madrigals and songs,
echoes and equivoques, which he [Petrarch]
hath not ; whereby, as the one hath surpassed
him in matter, so the other in manner of writing,
or form. . . . After which two, next, methinks,
foUoweth Daniel, for sweetness in rhyming
second to none. Drayton seemeth rather to
have loved his Muse than his mistress, by I
know not what artificial similes ; this showeth
well his mind, but not the passion. . . . Donne,
among the Anacreontic lyrics, is second to none,

* In the fortieth of his Sonnets to Delia.
VOL. I. d

xlviii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

and far from all second ; but as Anacreon doth
not approach Callimachus, though he excels in
his own kind, nor Horace to Virgil, no more
can I be brought to think him to excel either
Alexander's or Sidney's verses. They can
hardly be compared together, treading diverse
paths ; the one flying swift, but low ; the other;
like the eagle, surpassing the clouds. I think,
if he would, he [Donne] might easily be the
best epigrammatist we have found in English ;
of which I have not yet seen any come near
the ancients. . . . Drayton's Polyolbion is one
of the smoothest pieces I have seen in English,
poetical and well prosecuted ; there are some
pieces in him I dare compare with the best
transmarine poems. ... I find in him, which
is in most part of my compatriots, too great an
admiration of their country ; on the history of
which whilst they muse, they forget sometimes
to be good poets."

III.

In May 1617, King James visited Scotland
for the first time since his departure to assume
the crown of England. Among the memorials of
his visit is a poem by Drummond, published the
same year by Andro Hart, under the title of

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xlix

Forth Feasting : a Panegyric to the King's most
excellent Majesty. It is in the form of an ad-
dress to the King, supposed to be spoken by the
river Forth, and the beauty of the verse is ex-
ceeded only by the rankness of the adulation.
Professor Masson is of opinion that Drummond
"need not be thought of as even smilingly dis-
honest " on this occasion,* but I am unable to
take quite so lenient a view of the matter. The
evil custom of the time may fairly be pleaded in
palliation, but it is not an excuse. Drummond's
royalism, always intense and chivalrous, would
naturally incHne him to elevate his sovereign,
even against his reason, into a sort of Divtis
Jacobus. Moreover, James, disreputable as he
was, had some redeeming qualities : he was a
man of letters for one thing, and he undoubtedly
possessed a good deal of shrewd sense, which
might, without very gross flattery, be dignified
by the name of wisdom. Perhaps, too, the
ancient alliance between the houses of Drum-
mond and Stuart, of which our Scottish poet
was by no means unmindful, may have influ-
enced him in some slight measure. On the
other hand, it is to be feared that Drummond
understood only too well the character of the
man whom he was belauding as the pattern of

* Drummond of Hawthor}iden, p. 59.

1 INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

all perfections. Among his posthumous poems
is a little piece called T/ie Five Senses,"^ in uhich
the most secret vices of poor King James are
mercilessly exposed. In any case, it is strange
that so retiring a man as Drummond,. who really
seems neither to have expected nor desired any
favour from James, as he certainly received none,
should have condescended to such outrageous
flattery. One small incident of the King's visit
to Scotland is not without interest for us. Drum-
mond's brother-in-law was knighted, and ap-
pointed a member of the Scottish Privy Council:
Sir John Scot of Scotstarvet henceforward.

I have before cited Drummond's favourable
opinion of the poetical works of his contempo-
rary, Michael Drayton. In the year 1618 he
was visited at Hawthomden by one Joseph
Davis, bringing an introduction from Drayton,
who already knew him well by report, through
their common friend Sir William Alexander, and
was doubtless acquainted with his poems. Drum-
mond's pleasure in this opening intercourse is
vividly expressed in the following letter : —

"To the Right Worshipful Mr. Michael Dray-
ton, Esq.

" Sir, — I have understood by Mr. Davis the
direction he received from you to salute me

* I am not fully convinced of its authenticity, however.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR \\

here ; which undeserved favour I value above
the commendations of the greatest and mightiest
in this Tsle. Though I have not had the for-
tune to see you (which sight is but Hke the near
view of pictures in tapestry), yet, almost ever
since I couid know any, ye have been to me
known and beloved. Long since your amorous
(and truly HeroicaV) Epistles did ravish me ;
and lately your most happy Albion \Polyolbioji\
put me into a new trance : works (most excel-
lent portraits of a rarely endued mind) which, if
one may conjecture of what is to come, shall be
read, in spite of envy, so long as men read books.
Of your great love, courtesy, and generous dis-
position, I have been informed by more than
one of the worthiest of this country ; but what
before was only known to me by fame I have
now found by experience: your goodness pre-
venting me in that duty which a strange bash-
fulness, or bashful strangeness, hindered me to
offer unto you. You have the first advantage :
the next should be mine ; and hereafter you
shall excuse my boldness if, when I write to
your matchless friend Sir W. Alexander, I now
and then salute you, and in that claim, though
unknown, to be — Your loving and assured
friend "W. D."*

* Folio of 171 1, pp. 233, 234.

lii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

The two poets were never to meet in this hfe ;
but a lasting friendship was established between
them, and a correspondence by letter, which
continued to the last year of Drayton's life.
" My dear noble Drummond," writes Drayton,
in a letter dated London, November 9, 161 8,
" your letters were as welcome to me as if they
had come from my mistress ; which I think is
one of the fairest and worthiest living" [the
good Drayton was then fifty-five years old].
" Little did you think how oft that noble friend
of yours. Sir William Alexander (that man of
men), and I have remembered you before we
trafficked in friendship. Love me as much as
you can, and so I will you : I can never hear
of you too oft, and I will ever mention you
with much respect of your deserved worth."*
" Joseph Davis is in love with you," he adds in
a postscript. Drummond, not to be outdone in
politeness, replies on the 20th of December :
"If my letters were so welcome to you, what
may you think yours were to me, which must
be so much more welcome in that the conquest
I make is more than that of yours ? They who
by some strange means have had conference
with some of the old heroes, can only judge
that delight I had in reading them ; for they

* Folio of 1711, p. 153.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Hii

were to me as if they had come from Virgil,
Ovid, or the father of our sonnets, Petrarch." "^

Drayton was just then " in terms," to use his
own phrase, which means rather "out of terms,"
with the London booksellers : " a company of
base knaves," he calls them, "whom I both
scorn and kick at." He was entertaining, in
consequence, a project of getting the second
part of his Polyolbion published at Edinburgh
by Andro Hart, and wrote repeatedly to Drum-
mond upon the subject ; Drummond, of course,
doing gladly all in his power to further the
business. " How would I be overjoyed to see
our north once honoured with your works, as
before it was with Sidney's ! " he writes to
Drayton, alluding to an edition of the Arcadia
published at Edinburgh in 1599. The project,
however, came to nothing : the second part of
Polyolbion was published at London, by one of
those same "base knaves," in the year 1622.

Of Drayton the little that remains to be told
may perhaps most conveniently be told at
once. The correspondence between him and
Drummond continued on the same friendly
terms, though with occasional long intervals of
silence, partly due, it would seem, to Drum-
mond's visits to the Continent. The last extant

* Folio of 171 1, p. 234.

liv INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

letter of Drayton to his " most worthy and ever
honoured friend, Mr. WilHam Drummond," is
dated July 14, 163 1.* In December of the same
year he died. Drummond v/rites of him in a
letter to Alexander, then Viscount Stirling :
"The death of M. D., your great friend, hath
been veiy grievous to all those which love the
Muses here. ... Of all the good race of poets
who wTote in the time of Queen Elizabeth, your
Lordship now alone remains. Daniel, Sylvester,
King James, Donne [are gone and now Dray-
ton ; who, besides his love and kindly observance
of your Lordship, hath made twice honourable
mention in his works of your Lordship : long
since in his Odes, and lately in his Elegies.
... If the date of a picture of his be just, he
hath lived three score and eight years, but shall
live, by all likelihood, so long as men speak
English, after his death. I, who never saw
him save by his letters and poesy, scarce be-
lieve he is yet dead, and would fain misbelieve
verity if it were possible." t

In the same year in which his correspon-
dence with Drayton commenced, Drummond
made the personal acquaintance of a still more
famous English poet. The story of Ben Jon-
son's visit to Hawthomden is familiar to every

* Printed in the Folio of 1711, p. 154.
t Archaologia Scoiica, vol. iv. p. 93.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR \v

reader. The old tradition, however, that the
great dramatist undertook his Scottish journey
for the express purpose of visiting Drummond
has been long since discredited. That visit of
one or two weeks was but a brief episode of
a tour which, from Jonson's departure from
London to his return thither, lasted some ten
months in all, six of which v\'ere passed in
Scotland ; and of those six months, five, or
nearly five, had elapsed before he became
Drummond's guest. Nevertheless, we can
hardly doubt that to Jonson himself his sojourn
with the Scottish poet must have been one of
the most memorable incidents of his tour. To
us, indeed, it is the one incident which makes
that tour at all memorable ; for Drummond
profited by the great man's presence beneath
his roof to take notes of his conversation,
" which notes," says Professor Masson, " since
their recovery and publication in complete form
by Mr. David Laing, have been known to all
literary antiquaries as the richest repertory of
English literary gossip and tradition that has
come down to us concerning the reigns of
Elizabeth and James, and also the most valu-
able of all extant contributions to the biography
of Ben Jonson."*

* "Ben Jonson in Edinburgh," by David Masson, in
Blackwood's Magazine for December 1893, where the

Jvi INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

About the end of June 1618, Jonson set out
on foot from London, and probably arrived in
Scotland by the beginning of August. We
have scarcely any information as to what
he was doing during the months of August
and September. He certainly visited Loch
Lomond ; possibly St. Andrews ; but at the
end of September he was residing at Leith,
in the house of "one Master John Stuart,"
and there, or in that neighbourhood, he con-
tinued, much honoured and entertained by
the Edinburgh folk, until he started for Eng-
land again. At Leith or in Edinburgh, there
can be no doubt, he first made Drummond's
acquaintance, and accepted his invitation to
pass a few quiet days with him at Hawthorn-
den. To Hawthornden, accordingly, about
the end of December, Ben Jonson repaired,
and gossiped freely about himself, his con-
temporaries, and his predecessors in English
poesy, during his stay there. His contem-

reader will find some new and interesting information
concerning Ben Jonson's journey to Scotland. An ab-
stract of Drummond's Notes appeared in the Folio of
1711, pp. 224-227. They were first published in com-
plete form by Mr. Laing, from a manuscript copy in
the handwriting of Sir Robert Sibbald, in ArchcBol. Scot. ,
vol. iv. pp. 241-270 ; and have since been reprinted, as
a separate volume, for the Shakespeare Society, London,
1842 ; 8vo.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ivii

poraries and predecessors, indeed, appear to
have been but a poor lot, even the best of
them, in Ben's estimation. Spenser pleased
him not ; Sidney did not keep a decorum ;
Shakespeare wanted art ; Daniel was a good,
honest man, but no poet ; and so forth. Alto-
gether, though Drummond surely felt both
honoured and interested in entertaining under
his roof the most famous of living English
poets, his esteem for Ben Jonson was not
much increased by this visit. The two men
indeed were as ill adapted to one another
as two men of genius could well be. As
poets, they had little in common : the eminent
qualities of the one were usually those in
which the other was deficient. As indivi-
duals, they were even wider apart. This loud,
blustering, hard-drinking Englishman, with all
his solid worth and real magnanimity, was
not a man to attract the gentle, studious,
retiring, and perhaps fastidious poet of Haw-
thomden. The impressions of Ben Jonson's
character which Drummond committed to
paper are unfavourable and one-sided ; but
this must have been largely Ben's own fault,
for we may be certain that Drummond was
not consciously unjust.

A letter written by Drummond to Ben
Jonson, which bears the date of January 17,

Iviii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

1619, proves that the latter had then quitted
Hawthomden. He set out from Leith on his
homeward journey on the 25th of that month.
For a little while after his return to London
the two pdets corresponded in the most friendly
terms, the last letter which is extant of those
that passed between them being written by
Drummond, and dated July i, 161 9. No
further correspondence between them is re-
corded, and I doubt if there were much more
to record.* As a man, and probably also as
a poet, the sweet-minded Drayton was more
congenial to Drummond than this dogmatising
Ben. From Drummond's Notes I extract the
following sentences, containing Ben Jonson's
criticisms upon Drummond's own poetry : —

" His censure of my verses was that they
were all good, especially my Epitaph of the
Prince \Mceliades\ save that they smelled
too much of the schools, and were not after
the fancy of the time ; for a child, says he,
may write after the fashion of the Greek and
Latin verses in running : yet that he wished,
to please the King, that piece of Forth Feasting
had been his own.

* Their correspondence is printed in the folio edition
of Drummond's Works, pp. 137, 154, 155, and Archceo-
logia Scotica, vol. iv. p. 86 ; and reprinted, almost entire,
in Masson's Drummond of Hawtho7-nden^ pp. 105-110.

IXTRODUCTORY MEMOIR lix

" He recommended to my reading Quin-
tilian, who, he said, would tell me the faults
of my verses as if he lived with me ; and
Horace, Plinius Secundus' Epistles, Tacitus,
Juvenal, Martial, whose epigram Viiani qiicc
faciimt beat ior 6711^ Sec, he hath translated.

" He said to me, that I was too good and
smiple, and that oft a man's modesty made a
fool of his wit.

" He dissuaded me from poetry-, for that she
beggared him, when he might have been a
rich lawyer, physician, or merchant,"

One or two incidents of the year 1620 maybe
briefly noticed. Among Drummond's friends
at Court, Sir Robert Kerr of Ancrum, who was
himself a poet in a small way, held a high
place in his esteem. Early in 1620 this gentle-
man had the misfortune to kill his man in a duel.
His antagonist appears to have been a worth-
less fellow ; but Kerr found it necessary to with-
draw for a time to Holland. The following
passage from one of Drummond's letters to
him on this occasion is so characteristic of the
writer's philosophic way of looking at things,
that I cannot refrain from transcribing it.

" However Fortune turn her wheel, I find
you still yourself, and so ballasted with your
own worth that you may outdare any stomi.

Ix INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

This is that jewel which neither change of
Court nor climates can rob you of; of what is
yours you have lost nothing. By this quadrant
I have ever measured your height ; neither
here could the vapours of Court make me err.
Long since I learned not to esteem of any
golden butterflies there but as of counters,
whose places give them only worth." "^

At a later date Drummond writes to the
same friend : " Brave minds, like lamps, are
discerned when they are canopied with the
night of affliction, and, like rubies, give the
fairest lustre when they are rubbed. The
sight of so many stately towns and differ-
ing manners of men, the conquest of such
friends abroad, and trial of those at home, the
leaving of your remembrance so honourable
to after times, have made you more happy in
your distress than if, like another Endymion,
you had slept away that swift course of days
in the embracements of your Mistress the
Court." t

A still dearer friend of Drummond's, Sir
William Alexander, was even now sleeping
away his days, with much discontent, in the
embracements of the Court. Honours and high
political preferment awaited him in the future ;

* Folio, 171 1, p. 141.
f /did. p. 142.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixi

but as yet his greatness had not ripened, and
his most important duty was to assist King
James in translating the Psalms. In the spring
of 1620, Alexander made an attempt to engage
Drummond in the same work, no doubt, as
Professor Masson suggests, with the view of
doing his friend a good turn by introducing
him to the King^s notice. The attempt failed
signally ; probably not at all to Drummond's
regret. He did, however, translate a Psalm,
and sent his version to Alexander, from whom
he received the following reply : —

" Brother, — I received your last letter,,
with the Psalm you sent ; which I think very
well done. I had done the same long before
it came, but he [the King] prefers his own to
all else, though perchance, when you. see it,
you will think it the worst of the three. No
man must meddle with that subject, and there-
fore I advise you to take no more pains therein ;
but I, as I have ever wished you, would have
you to make choice of some new subject, worthy
of your pains, which I should be glad to see,
I love the Muses as well as ever I did, but
can seldom have the occasion to frequent
them. All my works are written over in one
book, ready for the press ; but I want leisure
to print them. So, referring all further to our

Ixii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

old friend, Sir Archibald Acheson, who is
coming home, I continue — Your loving friend,
"W. Alexander."^
" London, April i8, 1620."

The same year Alexander was seriously ill
of tertian ague. Drummond's letters to him
upon his recover}'- bear eloquent testimony both
to the sincerity of his friendship and the de-
voutness of his disposition. Had Alexander
died, he writes, " how miserable had the estate
of so rhany been, which all love your life ; for,
none being so well loved, this grief had been
universal." t And again : " That ye are relieved
of your tertian ague et tibi et inihi gratulor.
Ye should not despair of your fortunes. He
who drew you there and fixed me here contrary
to our resolutions. He only from all danger
may vindicate our fortunes, and make us sure.
He to this time hath brought me in the world
to be, without riches, rich ; and then most
happily did it fall out with me when I had no
hope in man left me ; and this came to me
because on Him, and not on man, my hopes
relied. And therefore, that now I live, that I
enjoy a dear idleness, sweet solitariness, I have
it of Him, and not from man. Trust in Him ;

* Folio, 1711, p. 151.

f Archceologia Scotica, vol. iv. p. 89.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixiii

prefer not to certainties uncertain hopes. Con-
spiravit in dolores nostras hccc CEstas : sola dies
potent tantum lenire dolorem ; for we have
what to plain and regret together, and I what
alone I must lament."*

In the autumn Drummond himself was pro-
strated by long illness. In a letter to Alex-
ander, dated November 1620, he complains of
the ignorance of his physicians: "My disease
being a pain of the side, they cannot tell to
what to ascribe the cause, nor how to help me.
If it shall happen me now to die, ye have lost
a great admirer of your worth ; and the greatest
conquest I have made on earth is that I am
assured ye love my rem>embrance." t About
this time he wrote the beautiful and touching
sonnet to Alexander, which ends with the Her-
rick-like couplet —

" Here Damon lies, whose songs did sometime g^ace
The murmuring Esk : may roses shade the place ! "

The next two or three years present nothing
that needs be recorded. Drummond was living
quietly at Hawthornden, preparing for publica-
tion a new volume of poems. In 1623 the new
work appeared : a small quarto volume en-
titled Flowers of Sion, published at Edinburgh

* Arckceologia Scotica, vol. iv. p. 89.
t Ibid. p. 87.
VOL. r. c

Ixiv INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

by John Hart, the son and successor of old
Andro Hart, who had died in December 162 1.
Nearly all the pieces in this volume appear to
be original : a very few translations from the
Italian of Marino are in perfect consent with
the prevailing tone of the book. Most of the
poems which Drummond had formerly pub-
lished under the title of Urania were here in-
cluded, with certain alterations : the rest of the
collection was new.

The whole book is an expression of the most
serious and exalted mood of its author. Drum-
,mond here reveals himself as a profoundly
religious man, a Christian in the truest sense of
the word. To his gentle and tolerant nature the
hard bigotry of Scottish Calvinism was utterly
repugnant. In the great religious struggle of
his time he sided with the bishops ; partly, of
course, from his loyalty to the King ; partly
also because he thought, and thought justly,
that the prelatists, with all their zeal for out-
ward confonnity, threatened less real danger
to liberty of conscience than the prying Presby-
terians. But he was no lover of priestcraft,
of whatever complexion, as he subsequently
proved very plainly. The reader will not fail
to be struck by the freedom from narrow dog-
matism which characterises Flowers of Sion,
especially if he regard the time and place of

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixv

its production. It appeals, upon the whole,
to Christians of all shades of opinion ; more
particularly, perhaps, to Christians of a meta-
physical turn ; and much of it should appeal to
non-Christians also. It treats of the sublimest
themes — divine love and mercy, the beauty of
virtue, the vanity of earthly things, the exalta-
tion of the soul to God. One theme there is
which, more than all the rest, kindles the poet's
enthusiasm ; and a considerable portion of the
book is, in fact, a sermon, in sweet and fervid
verse, upon the text, " God is Love."

But there is something more to be noted.
Drummond"s mind was enlarged, and his re-
ligious views v/ere certainly modified, by the
study of Plato. In many places of these
Flowers of Sion his philosophic bent is mani-
fest. The beautiful Hymn of the Fairest Fair,
for example, is the production of a Christian as-
suredly, but of a singularly Platonic Christian :
indeed, from certain passages in this poem it
appears to me probable that Drummond was
acquainted with the writings of Plotinus, "that
new Plato, in whom the mystical element in
the Platonic philosophy had been worked out
to the utmost limit of vision and ecstasy,"
as Mr. Pater finely says."^ Drummond's philo-

* The Renaissance, second edition, p. 40.

Ixvi INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

sophy finds, however, its fullest expression in
his prose essay, A Cypress Grove, which was
appended to Flowers of Sion. Simply as a
piece of literary work this essay deserves high
praise : Professor Masson likens its stately and
melodious style to that of Sir Thomas Browne
*'in the finest parts of his Urn-Bu7'ialP But
if as a master of style Drummond was not far
inferior to the Norwich physician, as a thinker
he was perhaps his superior. A Cypress Grove
is a treatise upon Death, which the author con-
siders both as it appears to be and as it really
is. Tried by the test of philosophy, its fictitious
terrors vanish ; it is " a piece of the order of
this All, a part of the life of this World."

His reflections are noble, and often profound.
Here, for instance, is part of an address to the
soul, instinct with the true spirit of Platonism :
"Thou seemest a world in thyself, containing
heaven, stars, seas, earth, floods, mountains,
forests, and all that lives ; yet rests thou not
satiate with what is in thyself, nor with all in
the wide universe, until thou raise thyself to
the contemplation of that first illuminating in-
telligence, far above time, and even reaching
eternity itself, into which thou art transformed."
Here, as elsewhere, he scruples not to borrow
when it suits his purpose. Witness the follow-
ing passage : " God containeth all in Him, as

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixvii

the beginning of all ; man containelh all in him,
as the midst of all ; inferior things be in man
more nobly than they exist, superior things
more meanly ; celestial things favour him,
earthly things are vassalled unto him; he is
the knot and band of both."* This, again, is a
pregnant sentence which he has upon riches :
"They are Jike to thorns, which, laid on an
open hand, are easily blown away, and wound
the closing and hard-gripping."

But it is needless to multiply quotations.
These few sentences it seemed desirable to
introduce by way of illustrating Drummond's
character and philosophic turn of mind ; but
the reader will find a reprint of the entire
essay in the second volume. I cannot help
thinking that Sterne, who was notoriously a lover
of out-ol'-the-way books, had certain passages
of this Cypress Grove in his mind when he wrote
Mr. Shandy's oration upon the death of his son.

IV.

A sonnet which Drummond wrote upon the
death of King James, in March 1625, is in the
old strain of panegyric ; not to be read without

* Translated, almost literally, from the Heptaplus of
Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, book v. c. 6 and 7.

Ixviii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

regret, though wc doubt not Di-ummond's dis-
interestedness. During the first year or two of
Charles's reign, he seems to have been absent
from Scotland. His next appearance is in
a very unexpected character. On the 29th
of September 1626 letters patent "to Mr.
William Drummond for the making of military
machines" were issued at Hampton Court;
and the patent was sealed at Holy rood on the
24th of December 1627."* After premising that
"our faithful subject, Mr. William Drummond
of Hawthornden, has expended very much
time, labour, and money in the devising and
fabricating of various machines, which may be
of use and profit to the State in the affairs both
of peace and war," the patent proceeds to
recount the particulars of the various inven-
tions. There are fifteen in all, each distin-
guished by a long Greek appellation, as well
as an English name for common use. Some
of the " warlike engines " look alarming enough
upon paper. Number Nine, for example, is " a
new kind of vessel, which will be able, without
check from any strength of chains, bars, or
batteries, to enter any harbours, and either

* The original Latin text of this curious document is
printed in the foho edition of Drummond's JVorks, pp,
235. 236. I quote from Professor Masson's translation
{Drummond of Hawthornden^ pp. 156-161).

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixix

destroy all the shipping by fire, or capture them
by force ; which vessel, from its truly stupen-
dous and terrible effect, and its dreadful de-
structiveness to ships and harbours, deser^^es
to be called Ai^evokod pevrrjs [///. destroyer of
harbours], vulgarly LeviathaiiP Number Seven
is an adaptation to modern warfare of the
ancient Helepohs, under the name of the Ele-
phant or the Cavalier Errant. The Box-Pistol^
Pike-Arquebuss^ Fiery Waggon.^ Open Orditance^
Flat-Scourer^ and Cutter., are the vulgar appel-
lations of the other military machines. Besides
these, the patent includes an instrument for
observing the strength of winds ; a new kind of
light craft, to be called, from its swiftness, the
Sea-Postilion; an instrument for reckoning the
longitude ; an instrument for converting salt
water into fresh ; a set of burning glasses, to
be called Glasses of Archimedes ; a kind of
telescope, called Lynxe^ Eyes ; and lastly, a
machine for producing, ''from a natural and
never wearied cause," perpetual motion. The
patent secures to Mr. William Drummond and
his assigns the sole right of making and selling
these various machines for the space of twenty-
one years, "inasmuch as the said Mr. William
Drummond has, with singular industry, and no
common ingenuity, thought out these, and not
a few inventions besides, and justice and right

Ixx INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

demand that each one shall enjoy the rewards
of his own virtue." The final paragraph, how-
ever, provides that the patent shall be of no
force with regard to any of the machines which
shall not have been reduced to practice within
three years of its date. There is no reason
to believe that any one of the machines was
reduced to practice within three years, or at
any subsequent period. Our ingenious poet
had evidently a turn for theoretical mechanics,
but the history of his inventions begins and
ends with the letters patent.

In 1627, Drummond bestowed a handsome gift
upon his Alma Mater ^ the University of Edin-
burgh, in the form of a collection of some five hun-
dred books and manuscripts, which are still kept
in a separate cabinet of the library. A catalogue
of this collection was published the same year by
John Hart, with an excellent little dissertation
on libraries by Drummond, by way of preface.

He was again absent from home, and pro-
bably on the Continent, during the years 1628
and 1629, and we hear no more of him until
the spring of 1630, when he writes from Haw-
thornden to a kinsman at Court — one Sir
Maurice Drummond, gentleman-usher to the
Queen.* It is likely that he visited Barns in

* Letter printed in the Folio of 171 1, pp. 145, 146. It
is dated May 12, 1630, and contains some characteristic

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixxi

the following winter. At all events, he speaks
of the prospect of such a visit in a letter dated
December 1630, "to his loving friend A. Cun-
ningham, Laird of Barns ; " probably a brother
of the young lady whom he had hoped to wed.
She had been dead now fifteen years, and
Drummond w^as still a bachelor, though not
much longer to rem.ain so. The following,
from the Memoir prefixed to the Folio of 171 1,
is what brief account we have of his marriage,
which took place in the year 1632."^ "By acci-
dent he saw one Elizabeth Logan, grandchild
of Sir Robert Logan of Restalrig, a great and
ancient family in this place, and fancying she
had a great resemblance of his first mistress
(whose idea had been deeply impressed, and
stuck long in his mind), he fell in love with
her, and married her after he was forty-five
[read, forty-six] years of age."

There is some uncertainty, nevertheless, re-
garding the extraction of Elizabeth Logan,
although it seems probable that the above
account is correct. The Memoirs of Father
Augustin Hay, Canon of Ste. Genevieve, Paris,

advice. Drummond tells his kinsman that he is too
honest for preferment at Court, and recommends him to
return to his native country.

* The date from Douglas's Baronage of Scotland, Art.
Drummond of Hawthornden.

Ixxii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

contain some interesting particulars as to the
family of our poet — interesting, at least, if they
may be relied upon ; but they appear set down
in so malicious a spirit that they deserve to be
received with great circumspection.*" Here,
however, to be taken for what it is worth, is
Father Hay's account of Drummond's marriage.
" Att 45 years of adge, he married unexpectedly
Elisabeth Logan, a minister's daughter of Edlis-
ton [Eddleston in Peeblesshire], which church
is within a quarter of a mile of Damhill [Darn-
hall], principal dwelling-house to Blackbarrony.
Her mother was a shepherd's daughter. The
family of Hawthornden pretends that she was
daughter to the Laird of Cottfeild, and grand-
child to Sir Robert Logan of Restalrig : but no
sutch matter."

Drummond's career as a poet was now well-
nigh at an end. It is true he continued occa-
sionally to produce verses to the last year of
his life, and was yet to publish one or two such
productions, of little importance ; but Flowers
ofSio?ij of which a second edition had appeared
in 1630, was his last poetical publication of real
value. Not that his literary productivity was
less than heretofore, but from this time onward

* See the extracts from these Memoirs (1700) printed
in Appendix II. to the Genealogy of the House of Drum-
man d : Edinburgh, 1831.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixxiii

it was chiefly exercised in prose, and in works
of a political or historical character. With the
exception of yl Cypress Grove, none of Drum-
mond's prose works was printed during his
lifetime, although certain of his political pieces
appear to have circulated to some extent in
m.anuscript.

His earliest incursion into the distressful
region of politics was made soon after his mar-
riage. In December 1632 he wrote a short
paper, entitled Consideratio7is to the Kmg,'^
and evidently designed for Charles's perusal.
The subject is not of much present interest,
and may be dismissed in a few sentences.
William Graham, Earl of Menteith, had put
forward a claim to the long-disused title of Earl
of Stratherne, on the ground of his descent from
David Stuart, Earl of Stratherne, a son of
Robert II. of Scotland; and the claim having
been made good, the title was duly granted by
the King. The mischief lay in this : that the
revival of the ancient earldom of Stratherne
opened the way to a revival of an ancient con-
troversy concerning the pretended illegitimacy
of Robert III., and the prior right to the throne
of his half-brother David, the Earl of Stratherne
aforesaid. Robert's illegitimacy being estab-
lished, it would follow that not he alone, but all

* Printed in the Folio of 1711, pp. 129-131.

Ixxiv INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

the succeeding Scottish monarchs were no
better than usurpers, and that the true right to
the crown of Scotland rested with the descen-
dants of David Stuart, at that time represented
by the Earl of Menteith. Such pretensions
were no doubt far enough from Menteith's
mind, but he had been heard to speak indis-
creetly upon the subject. Now the poet of
Hawthornden was keenly alive to anything
affecting the honour of Annabella Drummond's
posterity, and his paper of Considej'ations con-
tains a serious expostulation with the King upon
the impoHcy of admitting Menteith's claim.
Whether the paper was shown to Charles, we
know not ; but by some means his jealousy was
aroused, and the unfortunate descendant of
David Stuart found himself deprived, not only
of his new title, but of his earldom of Menteith
into the bargain.

In the summer of 1633, King Charles, long
expected, came to Scotland to be crowned. His
entry into Edinburgh, on the 15th of June, was
graced with a pageant of surpassing magnifi-
cence, prepared by George Jamesone, the most
distinguished Scottish painter of the day. The
speeches for the pageant were written by Drum-
mond, and published the same year in a little
volume entitled 1 he Entertainment of the High
and Mighty Monarch Charles, Ki?ig of Great

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixxv

Brzfain, France^ and Ireland^ info his ancient
and royal city of Edinburgh. There is still
something of the old melody in Drummond's
verses, but the Entertai7tment falls far short of
the beautiful Forth Feasting in every respect
but that of adulation. The coronation over
(June 1 8), the King opened his Scottish Parlia-
ment in person ; got certain acts relating to
Church matters carried, though not without
strong opposition ; and the next month departed
for England, in a very ill humour at the obsti-
nate Presbyterianism of his Scottish subjects.
He had distributed honours pretty freely during
this visit ; to two of Drummond's friends, among
the rest. One of these was Sir Robert Kerr,
now created Earl of Ancrum ; the other deserves
a paragraph to himself.

As far back as the year 1620 we left Sir
William Alexander grumbling about his pros-
pects, and versifying Psalms with King James.
His prospects had since considerably bright-
ened ; had become indeed no longer prospects
merely, but accomplished facts. The star of
his worldly fortunes had been in the ascendant
from 1 621, when he obtained a grant, by royal
charter, of the territory of New Scotland, com-
prising not only the present Nova Scotia, but
an immense tract of the mainland north of New
England. Upon the accession of Charles this

Ixxvi INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

charter was confirmed, and although, by the
treaty of peace in 1629, most of the territory
was ceded to France, which indeed had a prior
claim to it, Sir William's efforts to colonise
were thought to hav^e added considerably to
his wealth. In January 1626 he was appointed
principal Secretary of State for Scotland, which
office he held during the remainder of his
life. In 1630 he was created Lord Alexander
of Tullibody and Viscount Stirling ; and lastly,
on the occasion of Charles's coronation at Edin-
burgh, he was further dignified by the titles of
Earl of Stirling and Viscount Canada. His
" works," which were so long since " written
over in one book, ready for the press," were not
yet published : to be published, however, in
1637, under the title of Recreations with the
Muses J the volume containing little of impor-
tance which had not previously appeared.

The Entertainment of Ki?2g Cha?ies was not
the only literary v.-ork upon which Drummond
was this year engaged. By far the longest of
his productions, a History of Scotla?id from the
year 1433 uiitil the year 1542 — i.e.^ from the
accession of King James I. to the death of
King James V. — was begun in 1633, during a
visit, it is said, to his brother-in-law, Scot of
Scotstarvet. It was completed some ten or
eleven years later, and dedicated by the author

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixxvii

to the Earl of Perth ; but was not published
until 1655, more than five years after Drum-
mond's death. For the student of history-
Drummond's narrative has little value, but it is
pleasantly written, and may still be read with
some interest. Following the example of Livy,
he introduces imaginary orations, in which he
sometimes takes occasion to air his own views,
especially upon the questions of submission to
the sovereign and religious toleration, A privy
councillor of James V., for example, is made to
declare, in the course of a long speech to his
master, that "religion cannot be preached by
arms," and that "force and compulsion may
bring forth hypocrites, not true Christians."

It was probably also in 1633 that our poet
compiled a genealogical table of the house of
Drummond, which he sent to the Earl of Perth.
A few sentences from the letter which accom-
panied it may be quoted. " My noble Lord," it
begins, "though, as Glaucus says to Diomed in

Homer —

— ' Like the race of leaves
The race of man is, that deserves no question ; nor

receives
Hisbeingany other breath. The wind in autumn strews
The earth with old leaves, then the spring the woods

with new endows ; ' *

* From Chapman's translation of the //iad, book vi.
11. 141-144.

Ixxviii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

yet I have ever thought the knowledge of
kindred, and the genealogies of the ancient
families of a country, a matter so far from con-
tempt that it deserveth highest praise. Herein
consisteth a part of the knowledge of a man's
own self. It is a great spur to virtue to look
back on the worth of our line. . . . This moved
me to essay this Table of your Lordship's
House ; which is not inferior to the best and
greatest in this is!e. It is but roughly (I confess)
hewn, nakedly limned, and, after better infor-
mations, to be amended." "^ The amendment of
this Table was, in fact, one of the poet's occupa-
tions during the last year of his life.t

Royalist and anti-Presbyterian as Drummond
was, it is odd that his first intervention in the
growing dispute between Charles and his
Scottish subjects shouM have taken the form
of a remonstrance against the policy of the
King. Certain lords and gentlemen of the
Presbyterian party (the Earl of Rothes at
their head), who had been zealous in opposi-
tion to the Kirk Acts which Charles had

* Letter printed in the Folio of 171 1, p. 136.

t Drummond's Table, with later interpolations, is
printed, under the title of a History of the Family of
Perth, as Appendix I. to the Genealoj:^y of the House of
Drummond by William Drummond, Viscount Strath-
allan: Edinbiu"gh, 1831.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixxix

forced through the Scottish Parliament imme-
diately after his coronation, had drawn up a
" Supplication,"' which they purposed to present
to His Majesty. Herein they apologised for
their resistance of the King's measures, pro-
tested their good affection, hinted at various
grievances, and finally implored the King not
to insist upon introducing into the Scottish
Church innovations which did not stand with
the conscience of the Scottish people. The
tone of the paper was throughout loyal and
respectful. Upon second thoughts, however,
the petitioners decided not to present it, and
nothing would have been heard of the matter
had not one of them, Lord Balmerino, un-
luckily preserved a copy. Through some
carelessness this fact became known, and a
copy of the document found its way to the
hands of John Spotswood, Archbishop of St.
Andrews, the head of the Anglican party
in Scotland. The Archbishop at once com-
municated his discovery to the King, and
the result was, briefly, that in June 1634,
Lord Balmerino was arrested and thrown into
prison, to await there his trial on the capital
charge of possessing and being concerned in
an Infamous Libel against the King's govern-
ment. The trial did not take place until the
8th of March 1635, when Lord Balmerino was

VOL. I. /

Ixxx INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

convicted by the casting vote of the chairman
of the jury, the Earl of Traquair.

Now Drummond, as we know, had not the
shghtest sympathy with Bahnerino and his
party. But if he disHked Presbyterianism, he
detested tyranny. Therefore he wrote a paper,
which is published among his works under
the title of An Apologeiical Letter* and is
dated March 2, 1635, six days before the trial.
This paper he addressed to his friend Kerr,
Earl of Ancrum, that the latter might com-
municate its contents to the King if he deemed
it advisable. And as Professor Masson observes,
"there was real courage in this, inasmuch as
the paper is a ten times sharper and more out-
spoken remonstrance with His Majesty than the
* Infamous Libel' which is the subject of it." t

Drummond has nothing to say in favour of
the libel : " an idle piece of paper," he calls
it ; " such a paper should have been answered
by a pen, not by an axe." But he has much
to say in favour of the right to freedom of
speech, and adduces many historical examples
of the ill eftects of interfering with that right.
It is wiser in a prince, and more fitting his
fame, to slight and contemn libels, than to
be too curious in searching out the authors.

* Folio, 171 1, pp. 132-134.

t Drummond of HazvthonideTi, p. 237.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixxxi

Besides, " if they be presented by way of sup-
plications for redressing of errors in the state,
it is a question whether they be libels or not."
" No prince, how great soever, can abolish
pens ; nor will the memorials of ages be ex-
tinguished by present power." Upon "errors
in the state" of Scotland he writes in a strain
to which King Charles was as yet little accus-
tom.ed. "There is none in all his kingdom
here can reckon himself lord of his own goods
amongst so many taxes and taillages, so much
pilling and polling," "It hath often been found
that nothing hath sooner armed a people than
poverty, and poverty hath never so often been
brought upon a nation by the unfruitfulness
of the earth, by disasters of seas, and other
human accidents, as by the avarice of the
officers and favourites of princes ; who are
brought foolishly to believe that by tearing
off the skins of the flock, they shall turn the
shepherd rich. It is no property of a good
shepherd to shear often his flock, and ever to
milk them. Nor is it of a prince to gall and
perpetually afflict a people by a terrible ex-
chequer. Ih'utoruni se regem facif qui premit
suosr He concludes with this noble sentence:
" A prince should be such towards his subjects
as he would have God Eternal towards him,
who, full of mercy, spareth peopled cities, and

Ixxxii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

darteth His thunders amongst the vast and
wild mountains.'"'

Balmerino was ultimately released, though
not until more than four months after his trial.
But the glaring iniquity of proceeding to the
death-penalty for such an offence was too
much for the King's advisers, especially in view
of the state of popular feeling in Scotland ; and
even Laud was now on the side of mercy.

The year 1637 brought matters in Scotland
to a crisis. Laud's attempt to introduce the
new liturgy failed ignominiously, and the riots
in Edinburgh were the signal for universal
revolt. It seemed at first as if the obstinacy
of the King would keep pace with the resolution
of his subjects. Their protests were answered
by menaces and royal proclamations, until in
March 1638 the Scottish people solemnly
banded themselves toge her by a renewal of
the Covenant to defend their national religion,
and resist innovations to the utmost of their
power. Charles hungered for war, but for war
he was not prepared, and the only alternative
was to treat with the Covenanters. He accord-
ingly despatched the Marquis of Hamilton to

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixxxiii

Scotland to make what ininiumm of concession
was absolutely unavoidable, and this minhmnn
proved to be a full acceptance of the Scottish
terms, announced by the King's proclamation
of September 22. The obnoxious innovations
were abolished, the new liturgy was revoked ;
the King consented to a limitation of episco-
pacy, and to the summoning of a General
Assembly at Glasgow in the month of Novem-
ber following.

Upon this occasion Drummond produced
one of the longest and most important of his
prose treatises. It is entitled ''''Irene [Peace].
A Remonstrance for Concord, Amity and Love,
amongst his Majesty's Subjects ; writ t eft after
his Declaration publish d at Edinburgh, I27td
of September 1638 ;''* and it is in substance a
very eloquent and earnest appeal to the author s
countrymen of all classes, to forget their differ-
ences, and unite in a general reconciliation
upon the basis of His Majesty's gracious con-
cessions. But Drummond can hardly have
been very sanguine as to the event of his
appeal. Had the King's concessions been made
in good faith, or had the Covenanters been
content with the liberty of worshipping their

* Irene was not published until 171 1. It is in the
folio edition of Drummond's Works, pp. 163-173, and
has never been reprinted.

c

Ixxxiv INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

God after their own fashion, a settlement might
have been hoped for. But the facts were far
otherwise. Charles had simply yielded for the
moment to superior force, while to the Cove-
nanters the right to liberty of conscience was
a thankless gift, unless it were joined with the
right to deny that liberty of conscience to
very one besides.

Ire^ie begins in Drummond's most picturesque
manner : " As pilgrims, wandering in the night
by the inconstant glances of the moon, when
they behold the morning gleams ; as mariners,
after tempests on the seas, at their arrival in
safe harbours ; as men that are perplexed and
taken with some ugly visions and affrightments
in their slumbers, when they are awaked and
calmly roused up ; so did this kingdom, state,
nay, the whole isle, amidst those suspicions,
jealousies, surmises, misrepresentations, terrors
more than panic, after the late declaration of
the King's Majesty find themselves surprised
and over-reached with unexpected and inex-
pressible joys. Religion was mourning, Justice
wandering. Peace seeking whither to fly ; a
strange, hideous, grim, and pale shadow of a
government was begun to crawl abroad, put-
ting up a hundred headsj Men's courages
were growing hot, their'^^tred kindled, all
either drawing their swords or laying hands

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixxxv

upon them. The enemy was the country ; the
quarrel, differences of opinions. Towns were
pestered with guards of armed citizens, the
country and villages thralled with dormant
musters ; the danger seemed great, the fear
greater : all expected the prince would enter
the lists. And so he did ! Mean things must
yield unto the more noble ; zna'^ amor fatricej
that same wind which gathered the clouds did
dissipate them. He not only giveth way to our
zeal, graciously assenting to all our desires, but
condescendeth, nay commandeth, that our own
writ should be current, and embraced by all his
subjects. To human eyes a perfect conclusion
of our wretched distractions."

"The quarrel, differences of opinions," says
Drummond, and truly ; but there was another
question involved : was the countiy to be ruled
by the will of the people, or by that of the King ?
On this point Drummond is perfectly clear. He
stands for the principle of unconditional submis-
sion to the will of the sovereign. " Obedience
being the strongest pedestal of concord, and
concord the principal pillar of state, we should
always embrace and follow her if we would
enjoy a civil happiness." If there be that
which displeases us in the edicts of the prince,
"let us apply the remedies of patience and
obedience." "It is not lawful for a subject to

/

Ixxxvi INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

be a syndic of the actions of his prince in
matters of state, being for the most part
ignorant of the secret causes and motives upon
which they are grounded ; it belonging only to
God Almighty, the searcher of all hearts, to
censure and judge the actions of princes, from
whom alone they have their royal power and
sovereignty."

There is much more to the same efifect, all,
doubtless, very mistaken ; yet the loyal poet
was not wholly without apology. If he pre-
ferred the despotism of one man to the tyranny
of a multitude, we ought to consider, before
condemning him, the character of the multitude
which he had in view, and what kind of tyranny
theirs was likely to prove. The Scottish Presby-
terians did not stand, as the Enghsh Indepen-
dents, for liberty of conscience, but for a hierarchy
far more oppressive than that of Laud. Never,
in the days of her worst despotism, had the
Church of Rome exercised a more arbitrary
control over the words and actions of her
subjects than was now claimed by the Presby-
terian Kirk of Scotland. Drummond knew
already the truth which Milton afterwards ex-
pressed— that new Presbyter was but old Priest
writ large. Perhaps, too, he had seen that the
influence of Calvinism upon the lives of the
people was not such as to afford a very strong-

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixxxvii

argument in its favour. Here is a curious little
bit of evidence on this point, from an unbiassed
witness : " I thought I should have found in
Scotland," wrote Oliver Cromwell in 1 650, "a con-
scientious people and a barren country : about
Edinburgh, it is as fertile for corn as any part
of England ; but the people generally are so
given to the most impudent lying, and frequent
swearing, as is incredible to be believed." *

In freeze Drummond charged the Covenanting
nobles, and certainly not without some know-
ledge of the matter, with using religion as a
cloak to cover worldly ends. He warned them
that in warring against monarchy they were
compassing their own destruction : " Ye may
one day expect a Sicilian evensong." The
common people he regarded as imposed upon
by their leaders ; but his keenest satire and
invective were levelled against the Presbyterian
clergy. I purpose to quote a few more sen-
tences from Irene: meanwhile, to finish Drum-
mond's apology, let us take notice that there
was a wide difference in the position of affairs
in Scotland and in England. In England
there was actually a party which professed,
as Cromwell nobly said, " in things of the mind
to look for no compulsion but that of light and

* Carlyle's Cromwell, vol. ii. p. 218 : ed. 1857.

Ixxxviii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

reason." Not that Drummond could have been
other than a royalist, had he been an English-
man ; his royalism was far too deeply rooted.
But in Scotland he had no choice but of two
evils. There was no middle way between the
King and the Covenant, and considering all
that the Covenant implied, we cannot wonder,
nor greatly blame him, if he preferred the King.

The address to the clergy in Irejie contains
some home-truths capable of a wide applica-
tion, Drummond apostrophises them in a tone
of the bitterest irony. " Ye lights of the world,
examples of holiness and all virtues, you living
libraries of knowledge, sanctuaries of goodness,
look upon the fragility of mankind ! . . . Pity
the human race, spare the blood of man ; the
earth is drunk with it, the waters empurpled,
the air empoisoned ; and all by you. ... By
you kingdom hath been raised against kingdom,
citizens against themselves, subjects against
their sovereigns. . . , Our God left duty for a
law ; ye teach cruelty for God's service. Your
cruelty, many hundred years since, moved a
heathen to write, that no savage beasts were
so noisome and hurtful to men as Christians
were to themselves."

Not the Presbyterian clergy alone were in
Drummond's thoughts when he thus addressed
them. But further : '' Sacred race ! have you

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Ixxxix

no remorse when ye enter into the cabinets of
your own hearts, and there, for arras and por-
traits, find millions of Christians represented
unto you disfigured, massacred, butchered, and
made havoc of in all the fashions the imagina-
tions of wicked mankind could devise, for the
maintaining of those opinions and problems
which ye are conscious to yourselves are but
Centaurs' children, the imaginations and fancies
of your own brains, concerning which ye would
argue with and chide one another, but never
shed one ounce of your blood ? . . . Our Master
said. He sent out His disciples as sheep amongst
wolves ; but now of many churchmen it may
be said, they come out as wolves in the midst
of sheep, that for bread they have given stones
to their children, and for fishes serpents. With
what countenances can ye look upon your
Master, at whose nativity angels proclaimed
the joyful embassy of peace unto men and
glory to God ; whose last will was love and
peace ; who so often recommended patience
and suffering; whose example in all His actions
ever crieth peace ? But ye have transformed
truth into rhetoric, by your commentaries de-
stroyed the texts ; the shadows have deprived
us of the bodies."

He gives them excellent advice. " Compound
your differences and controversies ; study unity

xc INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

and not distractions ; seek not so much cun-
ningly to make men know what goodness is,
as to make them embrace and cheerfully follow
it. A little practice of goodness is many degrees
above abstract contemplations, disputes, and
your learned orations ! ... Of the diversity
and variety which is in this world ariseth that
beauty so wonderful and amazing to our eyes.
We find not two persons of one and the same
shape, figure, and lineaments of the face,
much less of the same conditions, qualities,
and humours, though they be of the self-same
parents ; and why do we seek to find men all
of one thought and one opinion in formalities
and matters disputable ? Why should we only
honour and respect those of our opinions as
our friends, and carry ourselves towards others
as if they were beasts and trees, nay, as our
enemies ? Were it not more seemly and meet
to make a difference between men according
to their vice or virtue ? There be many wicked
men of our profession, and a great number of
good and civil men of other professions. Siia-
de?ida est religio^ non imperanda. The con-
sciences of men neither should nor will be
forced by the violence of iron and fire ; nor
will souls be compelled to believe that which
they believe not : they are not drawn nor sub-
dued but by evidence and demonstrations."

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xci

In conclusion, Dmmmond addresses the King
himself in words of warning as well as of
entreaty. He tells him it was not religion
alone which occasioned these troubles : they
were partly due to misgovernment. Above
all things, he cautions him not to attempt the
subduement of his people by force of arms.
" If you should, Sir, you shall make your power
odious every way .... The drawing of your
sword against them shall be the drawing of
it against yourself." Clemency is with kings a
kind of justice. If his subjects have lost any-
thing of what they feign to be liberty, let the
King restore it to them ; let him " change their
troubles into rest, their miseries into prosperity,
their dissensions into concord and peace."

It had been well for Charles if he could have
taken to heart some such advice as this ; but
on both sides Drummond was casting his
pearls before persons incapable of perceiving
their value. The Glasgow Assembly met on
the 2 1st of November 1638, and it was quickly
evident that the breach was widening instead
of closing. Not satisfied with the limitation
of episcopacy to which Charles had already
consented, the Assembly determined upon its
total extirpation, and summoned the bishops
to appear before its tribunal. Thereupon the
Marquis of Hamilton, acting for the King,

xcii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

pronounced the Assembly dissolved ; and the
Assembly, continuing to sit in defiance of the
Marquis, deposed and excommunicated the
Scottish bishops,abolishedtheEpiscopal Church,
and established Presbyterianism as the national
form of religion. There could be no doubt as
to the event of these proceedings, and the Scots
accordingly prepared for war. Castles were
seized and garrisoned, an army was raised, and
the command was entrusted to P^ield-Marshal
Lesley, an officer who had served with dis-
tinction in Germany under the King of Sweden,
the famous Gustavus Adolphus.

It was during this year that Drummond
completed the rebuilding, or partial rebuild-
ing, of his house at Hawthornden. " The
mansion of Hawthornden which tourists now
admire, peaked so picturesquely on its high
rock in the romantic glen of the Esk, is not
the identical house which Ben Jonson saw,
and in which he and Drummond had their
immortal colloquies, but Drummond's enlarged
edifice of 1638, preserving in it one hardly
knows what fragments of the older building."*
Above the doorway of the new house the poet
caused the following inscription to be car\'ed :
Diviiio v2U7iere Guiiebniis DriDiiniondus ab

* "bAsjisoii's Dnanmond of Hawf/iorndeft, p. 289.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xriii

//aii>//iornden, /oanm's, Equitis Aicrati^ Filius^
ut Jionesto otio qidescercf, sibi ei successoribus
instaicravit^ 1638.

Ut honesto otio quiesceret J Alas, poor
Drummond !

There is no need to dwell here upon the
details of the first Bishops' War. All the
histories tell how Charles, with great difficulty,
assembled an army in the spring of 1639, and
came northward to chastise his rebellious sub-
jects ; how the Scottish general marched his
forces to the border, and encamped on Dunse
Law ; and how^ after all, the King would not
venture to attack the Scots, but consented to a
treaty (June 18), which left them masters of the
situation. But what was Drummond doing
the while.'* He had been taxed, with the rest
of Scotland, for the maintenance of the army^
and had received orders from the Covenanting
Committee to proceed to the border wich a
party of gentlemen, to resist the English ;
which orders, as we gather from a letter of his
to the Marquis of Douglas, "-^ he thought fit to
disobey. He was compelled, however, to sign
the Covenant, probably in the spring of 1639,
and we may reasonably suppose that he owed

* Printed in Archceologia Scoiica, vol. iv. pp. 97, 98.

xciv INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

his exemption from severer treatment to the
good offices of his old friend Ancrum's son,
the Earl of Lothian, who was a leading man
among the Covenanters, and a near neighbour
of Drummond's. Meanwhile he relieved his
feelings by the composition of various bits of
satirical epigram in verse, and three or four
longer pieces in prose.

T/ie Magical Alirror; or^ a Declaration upon
the Rising of the Nobleine7i^ Barons^ Gejitlemen^
and Burgesses^ in Anns, April i, 1639,"^ is the
title of the first of these prose pieces, and its
authorship being considered, a very singular
produc<-'on it is ! A temperate and candid
defence of the people for taking up arms in
behalf of their religion, without the least ap-
parent irony, is not precisely the kind of paper
we should have expected from Drummond ;
yet this is an exact description of The Magical
Mirror. There is an appendix, however, en-
titled Queries of State^\ which explains the
riddle. Drummond's design was, to bring
together all the arguments which could be
adduced in support of the popular cause, and to
present them as fairly and forcibly as possible ;
trusting to his appended queries to indicate
their weak points and insufficiency. But on

* Printed in the Folio of 171 1, pp. 174-176.
t Ibid. pp. 177, 178.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xcv

this occasion he certainly overshot the mark.
The case for the Covenanters is so impartially
stated and so admirably argued, as scarcely to
be shaken by the brief and inadequate queries
which follow.

The second paper is more in the old vein.
This is entitled A Speech to the Nobleme7i^
Barons^ Gentle?7ien^ &=€., who have leagued
themselves for the Defence of the Religion and
Liberty of Scotland, and is dated May 2, 1639.*
It contains an eloquent protest against the
war, and a setting -forth of the miseries likely
to ensue upon it. A third paper, called The
Idea^\ is unfinished, and was perhaps never
intended for anything more serious than the
fanciful speculation of an idle hour. The
"idea" was, that the divisions and disorders
in Great Britain were directly due to foreign
intrigue, having been excited and fomented by
French and Imperialist emissaries. The fourth
and last of these prose pieces is called The
Load Star^ or Directory to the New World
a?id Transformations. X It consists of a series
of satirical directions for the widening of the
breach between Charles and the Scottish
people. The irony, however, is not always

* Printed in the Folio of 1711, pp. 179-182.
t Ibid. pp. 220, 221.
X Ibid. pp. 183, 184.
VOL. I. g

xcvi INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

very obvious, and some of the directions are
such as any Presbyterian might have written in
good earnest.

On the 1 2th of August 1639 a new General
Assembly, and shortly afterwards a new Par-
liament, met in Edinburgh, according to the
terms of the treaty. The acts of the Glasgow
Assembly were confirmed, and the signing of
the Covenant was now made obligatory upon
all Scotsmen. Again Drummond indulged his
satirical bent in the writing of a paper entitled
Consider at io7is to the Parliatnent^ September
1639.* This paper consists of a long series of
proposed enactments, conceived in a spirit of
rather clumsy humour. Drummond's satire is
usually biting in proportion to its seriousness :
of the lighter kind, which he here attempts, he
was not a master. Two or three of the more
humorous of the C outsider atio7is may, however,
be given as specimens.

"That it shall be lawful, in time of trouble
and necessity, for the Provost of Edinburgh to
offer up his prayers in the Cathedral Church
by shot of pistols, which are more conform to
the times than organs.

" That, in time of war, it shall be lawful, for
the weal of the kingdom, to the noblemen,

" Folio of 1711, pp. 185-187.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xcvii

barons, &c., to choose a Dictator, providing he .
can neither read nor write. "^

"That no man stand bare-headed in the
Presence Chamber or Parliament House of
Scotland, or before any chair of state, since
hereby open idolatry is committed, and a wor-
ship of Lions and Unicorns.

" That no man swear the Oath of Supremacy,
except in England ; yet it shall be lawful for
any man to swear it to his wife, if he please."

VI.

Early in the next year (February 12, 1640)
died Drummond's old and attached friend,
Alexander, Earl of Stirling. His honours had
not brought him much happiness. Private
griefs and his increasing unpopularity with his
countrymen had embittered his last years. His
wealth, too, had melted away, and it appears
that he died insolvent. In the spring of 163S
he had lost his eldest son. Lord Alexander, a
young man of great promise ; and his second
son. Sir Anthony, had died but a few months
earlier. The latter was commemorated by
Drummond in a Pastoral Elegy ^ the last poem

* This, says Professor Masson, was a hit at Lesley,
who was rather illiterate.

xcviii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

which he gave to the public. Stirling had con-
tinued to reside generally in London, in the
capacity of Scottish Secretary, Of the manner
in which he fulfilled the duties of that office
Dr. Grosart speaks in terms of high, and pro-
bably not wholly undeserved, eulogy, and we
may agree with him that the secret of Stirling's
unpopularity " is to be found in his width of
view and fine impartiality." * But as a royalist
and anti- Presbyterian, how could Stirling be
other than unpopular in Scotland ? " Old and
extremely hated," wrote Baillie the Covenanter
of him, at the time of his eldest son's death.
And now Stirling himself was dead, and there
were no signs of that universal grief of which
Drummond had so affectionately assured him
twenty years before. Among Drummond's
papers were found a few brief notes for an
intended poem in memory of his friend ; but
the intention was never carried out. The times
were too out of joint for the writing even of
Pastoral Elegies.

In 1640 occurred the second Bishops' War,
still more disastrous to the King than the first
had been. For now the Scots took the offen-
sive ; crossed the Tweed (August 20), and
meeting with little resistance, for the very

* Dicf. 0/ National Biography, art. ALEXANDER.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR xcix

soldiers of the King had no heart in the quarrel,
gradually established themselves in the northern
counties, with Newcastle for their headquarters.
There for about a year they remained, no
longer as enemies, but as allies to the Parlia-
ment and people of England. "The whole
body of English Puritans looked upon them as
their saviours.''*

In this war, also, we find Drummond acting,
or refusing to act, under orders from the
Covenanting government. The following letter
to his kinsman the Earl of Perth is dated
Hawthornden, December i, 1640 : —

" My noble Lord, — In this storm of the
state I had resolved to set my affairs in order,
exposing all to the hazard of what might fall
forth, and fly to the shadow of your Lordship ;
finding, at this time, that not to prove true,
Mz'm'ma paj'vitate sua tuta sunt j for the
humility of my fortune, and my retired and
harmless form of living, could not save me from
being employed to serve here the ambition of
the great masters of the state. As if I had no
more to do with time, I was appointed to spend
it in attending the Committee of the Shire ; at
my first initiation, charged to be at that fata!

* Carlyle's Cromxvell, vol. i. p. 84.

c INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

service and horrible execution of Dunglass,*
they directed me to ravage and plunder the
more peaceable neighbours about. This Trojan
Horse laboured to give me a command over
horses. All which employments, being contrary
to my education and estate, knowing ihaX pareil
sur pareil a nii lie puissance^ and that they were
not my lawful masters, I shunned, and per-
formed no more than pleased me ; which ac-
quired me no small spite. If the Parliament of
England, and matters since fallen forth, had
not a little cooled this fervency or frenzy, I
knew not where to have found sanctuary, save
with your Lordship ; nor know I what thanks to
render your Lordship for your gracious pro-
tection and many courtesies offered me. If I
should sacrifice my fortunes, liberty, and life, I
would rather lose them for your Lordship than
for any democracy. Your Lordship's favours
shall ever be remembered, and sought to be
deserved in what is within the compass of per-
forming and the power of Your Lordship's
Humble Servant, W. Drummond." +

* This refers to the blowing-up (August 30), whether
by accidc-nt or design, of Dunglass Castle in Hadding-
tonshire, where the Covenanters had a garrison, com-
manded by the Earl of Haddington. Many persons,
among them the Earl himself, perished in the ex-
plosion.

+ Folio of 1711, p. 147.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR ci

Of King Charles's conciliatory visit to Edin-
burgh in the autumn of 1641, and of the " Inci-
dent " which disturbed it, nothing need here be
said. Drummond wrote a prose Speech for
Eai7iburgh to the King on this occasion, but
very certainly did not make it public* It is
in the old, rather pathetic strain of hoping
against hope. "A fatal necessity, contrary to
our minds, did force us unto many things. . . .
Doubts now are resolved, all damps and mists
cleared, and we hope that saying shall prove
true, Atnantiuin irce amor is redintegration''

The English civil war was the cause of fresh
dissensions in Scotland. The aid of the Scots
was sought both by the King and Parliament
of England, and Charles having now conceded
all the demands of the Covenanters, there were
not wanting those among them who were in-
clined to support a King of their own nation
against the English rebels : nevertheless, the
great majority of the Scots favoured the Parlia-
ment. Shortly after the battle of Edgehill the
English Lords and Commons concurred in a
Declaration to their brethren of Scotland, in-
viting their assistance towards the prosecution
of the war. A little later the King, having
perused this Declaration of the two Houses,

* Printed in the Folio of 1711, pp. 216, 217.

cii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

sent, he also, a Declaration to the Scots, setting
forth his own views upon the matter, and
assuring them that he had been compelled to
take up arms "for the defence of his person
and safety of his life ; for the maintenance of
the true Protestant religion ; for the preserva-
tion of the laws, liberties, and constitution of
the kingdom, and for the just privileges of
Parliament" !* He desired that this Declara-
tion might be communicated to his Scottish
subjects, and it was accordingly published, not
without much debate, by the Scottish Privy
Council. Thereupon ensued a great commo-
tion, and petitions against the King's message
were presented both to the Lords of the Coun-
cil and to the Commission for the Conservation
of the Peace. On the other side, a "cross-
petition" in favour of the King, promoted by
the Marquis of Hamilton and other gentlemen
of the royalist party, was also presented to the
Council. But this was not to be tolerated.
The great Presbyterian governing bodies, the
Commissions for the Conservation of the Peace
and for the Affairs of the Kirk, issued, on the
1 8th of Januar)^ 1643, an emphatic declaration
against the cross-petition, which they charac-
terised as "nothing else but a secret plot, and

* Clarendon's History of the Re.beUio?i, Oxford, 1705,
&c. : vol. ii. p. 87.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR ciii

subtle undermining of all the present designs
of this Kirk and Kingdom for unity of religion,
and of all the work of God in this land."

To this declaration of the ruling bodies Diiim-
mond replied, in the longest, and perhaps
the most vehement, of his political treatises ;
although the fact that he still remained at
liberty makes it doubtful whether the paper
was seen by any of the party against which it
was directed. It is entitled ^Kiafxaxia [Fighting
about Shadows] ; or a Defence of a Petition
tendered to the Lords of the Council of Scotland
by certain Noble77ten and Ge?ttlemen, January
1643.^ The Greek title is borrowed from Plato.
The reader will recall that wonderful allegory
in the seventh book of the Republic^ wherein
the philosopher likens the state of mankind to
that of men fettered in a cave, having behind
them a great light. But between them and the
light there are many objects, of which they see
the shadows cast upon the opposite wall of the
cave. And seeing nought but shadows, since
their fetters hinder them from turning their
faces, they believe these shadows to be real
objects, and indeed the only reality. And
thus, says he, "most cities are at present

* Printed in the Folio of 171 1, pp. 190-205. The
declaration of the Commissioners against the cross-peti-
tion is there appended to Skiamachia, pp. 206-211.

civ INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

inhabited by such as both fight with one an-
other about shadows [a-Kiafxaxovvroiv], and raise
sedition about governing, as if it were some
/mighty good."*

/ So to our philosophic Drummond all this

l/ \ bitter contention of Kirk against Church, of

I Presbyter against Prelate, was simply Skia-

imachia, a fighting about shadows. His trea-

Itise is, above all things, a protest against the

^.tyranny of the clergy. It is aimed, of course,

especially at the Presbyterian ministers and

/the Commissioners for the Affairs of the Kirk,

whom he compares with the Spanish inquisitors

"Have we rejected the High Commission, to

set over us men more rigid, supercilious, and

severe than the Spanish inquisitors themselves?"

And he warns them, " Where by blood ye shall

make three proselytes, ye shall make a hundred

hypocrites." But here, as in Irene^ Drummond

does not confine his censures to the clergy of

his own time and country. The following

extract must suffice.

" Presumptuous churchmen in most parts of
the kingdoms of Europe have proven worse
than the foxes of Samson.t They but burnt

* Thomas Taylor's translation : Works of Plato, vol.
i. p. 365.

t In the declaration against the cross-petition this
comparison is used of the petitioners : " It will be ob-

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR cv

the corns when the fields were white for the
harvest ; but these have burnt whole towns,
male and female, children and old men, guilty
or not guilty, holy or profane, turning all under
the law of their spoil and licentiousness ; dyed
the white fields in blood ; turned them into a
Golgotha, as in our own country that one battle
of Pinkie can testify, where a churchman was
both the loss of the field and commonwealth.
They are firebrands of strife, trumpets of sedi-
tion, the Red Horses whose sitters have taken
peace from the earth. There is no Christian
country which hath not by their devices been
wrapped in v/ars ; they carry the common
people, like hawks, hooded, into dangers and
destruction ; make them believe the mountains
shake when the moles do cast up ; imposing
upon their credulity with vain shadows."

The negotiations between the Parliament
and the Scots terminated successfully on the
25th of September 1643, when the Commons,
in a body, subscribed the Solemn League and
Covenant, which pledged the two nations to
mutual assistance, and to an endeavour to bring

served, that they who were of late at distance amongst
themselves are now at agreement, and that, like Sam-
son's foxes, they turn tail to tail, with firebrands in the
midst, to burn up the husbandry of God, when now the
fields are white for the harvest."

cvi INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

about uniformity in matters of religion, i.e.^
Presbyterianism after the Scottish model Sub-
scription to this Covenant was enjoined by the
governing bodies upon every inhabitant of the
two kingdoms. Again Drummond took up his
pen. A short paper, entitled Remoras [Delays]
for the National League between Scotland and
England^ is published among his works,"^ but
we need not quote from it here. In the follow-
ing January a Scottish army of 21,000 men,
under their old general, Lesley, now Earl of
Leven, marched into England. They joined
Fairfax in the siege of York, took part in the
decisive battle of Marston Moor (July 2, 1644),
carried Newcastle by storm in October, and
then lapsed into inactivity, and increasing dis-
gust with their allies. For there was a party in
England which stood for that principle which
to the Presbyterian mind meant the mere
abomination of desolation — the principle of
liberty of conscience ; and this party was daily
gaining ground, especially in the army. By
the end of 1644 the Independents had power
enough in the House of Commons to carry
their Self-denying Ordinance, of which one of
the clauses provided that men might serve in
the army without taking the Covenant. And

* Folio of 17T1, pp. 188, 189.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR cvii

in proportion as the party of tolerance, with
Cromwell at its head, took more and more the
lead, so did the zeal of the Scottish Presbyterians
cool towards the English alliance.

Although Drummond had carried his outward
confomiity to the extent of subscribing both
Covenants, and although he had friends among
the Covenanters — the Earl of Lothian for one,
and his own brother-in-law, Scotstarvet, for
another — it was not to be expected that he
should remain altogether unmolested. " Being
a reputed Malignant," says his old biographer,
" he was extremely harassed by the prevailing
party, and, for his verses and discourses, fre-
quently summoned before their Circular Tables
[the Covenanting Committees], as we may see
by a discourse which he designed to have
spoken to them.""^ This discourse is still ex-
tant in print ; t but that it remained unspoken
there can be no possible doubt. Drummond
there shows his mind as plainly as ever, and
in a manner apologises for his outward submis-
sion to the Covenanters, making use of a meta-
phor which, though exceedingly apt, was hardly
calculated to commend itself or its author to
the good graces of the Committee. " Should I,"
says he, " meet a number of madmen, and they

* Memoir prefixed to the Folio of 171 1, p. x.
t Folio of 171 1, pp. 218, 219,

cviii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

were to have me to dance with them, I were
the occasion of my own destruction if I opposed
them." In this paper he alludes to his History
of Scotland^ his Irene^ and " some other pieces
of state," in terms which prove that, although
these works were still unprinted, their contents
must have been somewhat widely known, either
from perusal or report. But the political papers
of Drummond's which we now possess do not
represent the whole of his labours in that kind.
Says the biographer above quoted, " I am in-
formed that there were a great many particular
papers, wrote against the chief ringleaders of
the rebellion, which, after his death, in those
very severe times, were thought fit to be de-
stroyed, for fear of doing harm to his friends
or family."

The years 1644 ^^^ 1645 were those of the
Marquis of Montrose's counter-revolution in
favour of King Charles. To Drummond and
the Scottish royalists it must have seemed that
the tide had turned at last, for, by the summer of
164-, Montrose, after a series of unexampled suc-
cesses, had reduced almost the entire kingdom
of Scotland. With Drummond Montrose was
doubtless already acquainted, and it has been
reasonably conjectured that the anonymous
nobleman to whom the poet sent a copy of his
Irene^ together with a letter which is still extant,

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR cix

was no other than this brilliant young Marquis,
at that time Earl of Montrose, and a leading
man among the Covenanters.* Two letters
which passed between them at the period of
Montrose's triumph have been printed, t The
Marquis had sent Drummond a "protection," for
his better security, dated from " our leaguer at
Bothwell, the 28th of August 1645," ^^^ com-
manding all soldiers in his service not to " trouble
or molest Mr. William Drummond of Haw-
thornden," or anything that was his, as they
should answer the contrary at their highest
peril. Drummond hereupon writes to Montrose,
suggesting that "since, by the mercy of God on
your Excellency's victorious arms, the golden
age is returned," it may be a fitting time for the
publication of Irene^ " if that piece can do any
service " ; and there is a brief note from Mon-
trose in reply, requesting Drummond to bring
the papers to him at Bothwell, that he may give
order for the printing of them. But the star
which shone so brightly proved to be but a
meteor. A fortnight after this note was written
Montrose was a fugitive. His forces had been
surprised at Philiphaugh (September 13) by a

* See Masson's Drummond of Hawikornden, p. 346,
and p. 273 for Drummonds letter. The letter was first
printed in ArchcBolo^ia Scotica, vol. iv. p. 95.

t Folio of 1711, p. 157.

ex INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

detachment from the army in England, and
completely shattered. For about a year longer
he remained in Scotland, endeavouring, though
in vain, to retrieve his lost fortunes. Meanwhile
the King surrendered himself to the Scots, and
the war was brought to an end. Montrose was
one of the last to submit, but he, too, at length
laid down his arms, and went abroad, with leave
from the Presbyterian government. A little
before his departure from Scotland he wrote
the following letter to Drummond : —

" Sir, — Having the occasion of this so trusty
a bearer, I could not but remember to you all
my best respects, and acknowledge your good
affection, and all your friendly favours. For
which, and your so constant loyalty towards his
Sacred Majesty and his service, besides your
own so much personal deserving, I must entreat
you to believe that, in all times and fortunes,
you shall find me ever. Sir, Your most affection-
ate and faithful friend,

" Montrose.*

" MoNTROSF, August igih, 1646."

Bishop Sage's Memoir of Drummond con-
tains an anecdote which I here transcribe, as it

* Folio of 1711, p. 158.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR cxi

illustrates a side of Drummond's character of
which we have seen very little.

"In the year 1645, when the plague was
raging in Scotland, our author came accident-
ally to Forfar, but was not allowed to enter any
house, or to get lodging in the town, tho' it was
very late. He went some two miles farther to
Kirrimuir, where he was well received and
kindly entertained. Being informed that the
towns of Forfar and Kirrimuir had a contest
about a piece of ground, called the Muirmoss,
he wrote a letter to the Provost of Forfar, to be
communicated to the town council in haste.
It was imagined this letter came from the
Estates, who were then sitting at St. Andrews :
so the common council was called with all ex-
pedition, and the minister sent for, to pray for
direction and assistance in answering the letter,
which was opened in a solemn manner. It
contained the following lines :

' The Kirrimorians and Forfarians met at Muirmoss,
The Kirrimorians beat the Forfarians back to the

Cross.
Sutors ye ai-e, and sutors ye'll be ;
F upon Forfar, Kirrimuir bears the gree.' " *

The war over, men's minds in Scotland were
sorely exercised upon the question of sur-

■* Folio of 1711 : Memoir, p. ix.
vol.. I. A

cxii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

rendering the King to the English. Would His
Majesty but take the Covenant, and consent to
the establishment of Presbyterianism as the
exclusive form of religion for the two kingdoms,
the Scots would stand by him to the last. But
His Majesty would do neither of these things,
and finally, in January 1647, he was handed
over to the Parliamentary Commissioners.
Drummond, of course, had not been idle upon
this occasion. The paper which he wrote is
entitled Objections against the Scots answered^
and is in the form of a reply to certain charges
brought against the Scots by the English Par-
liament ; but its particular purpose was, to
prevail with his countrymen to reject the Par-
liament's demand for the surrender of the King.
With much violence to his own feelings, he
wrote as from the point of view of an orthodox
Presbyterian ; but, had he othenvise written,
he knew well that his pleading must have been
even worse than useless.

From his confinement in the Isle of Wight
the King did at length concede one of the
points insisted on by the Scots. He accepted
the Presbyterian establishment, though even
now he was firm in refusing the Covenant. In
Scotland opinions were sharply divided. Many

* Printed in the Folio of 1711, pp. 212-215.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR cxiii

held that, since the King had so far pledged
himself to the Presbyterian cause, it was their
duty to support him against the English Inde-
pendents : others maintained that the conces-
sion was inadequate, that the King was not to
be trusted, and that it was no part of honest
Presbyterians to ally themselves with Prelatists
and Papists, as must necessarily be the case
did they resolve to restore the King by force of
arms. The King^s party, however, prevailed.
An army was raised, and sent into England in
the summer of 1648, under the command of our
old acquaintance the Marquis, now Duke of
Hamilton ; with good hopes, and the sympathy
of many among the English Presbyterians.
Drummond's last political paper — A Vindica-
tion of the IIa7nilto22s* — was written in answer
to a pamphlet published about this time, in
which the Duke was charged with treasonable
aims. Whether the Vi?id catio7i was ever circu-
lated is doubtful, for the Duke's much chequered
career had now come to a sudden close. On
the 17th of August, Cromwell burst upon him
near Preston, and scattered his army to the
four winds. Duke Hamilton himself was soon
afterwards captured ; consigned to an English
prison, and, finally, to the scaffold as a traitor —

* Printed in the Folio of 171 1, pp. 237-240.

cxiv INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

being" a peer of England as well as of Scot-
land.

The news of King Charles's execution, in
January 1649, came as a terrible shock to
Drummond, already "much weakened with
close studying and diseases.'' He lived on,
through th,e remaining months of the year,
writing occasionally a bit of sad epitaphian
verse, or revising his old Genealogy of the
Drummonds. On the 4th of December 1649
he died ; " to the great grief and loss of all
learned and good men : and was honourably
buried in his own aisle in the church of Lass-
wade, near to his house of Hawthornden." *

" The church and churchyard of Lasswade,"
writes Professor Masson, " are on a height over-
looking the village, and about two miles and a
half from Hawthornden. The present church
was built about a hundred years ago ; t but in
a portion of the well kept churchyard, railed in
separately from the rest, as more select and
important, there is the fragmentary outline of
the smaller old church, with some of the se-
pulchral monuments that belonged to it. Drum-
mond's own aisle, abutting from one part of the
ruined wall, is still perfect, a small arched space

* Memoir in the Folio of 1711, p. x.
f In 1793, according to Lewis's Topographical Diet.
0/ Scotland : London, 1846.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR cxv

of stone-work, with a roofing of strong stone
slabs, and a grating of iron for doorway. With-
in this small arched space Drummond's ashes
certainly lie, though there is no inscription to
mark the precise spot as distinct from the graves
of some of his latest descendants who are also
buried there." *

Until 1893 the little aisle was Drummond's
only monument. In October of that year a
memorial tablet was fixed to the outer wall of
the aisle, above the iron grating. It consists of
a bronze medallion of the poet's head, set in a
tablet of freestone, with the arms of his family,
and, by way of epitaph, the last two lines of the
beautiful sonnet which he sent to Alexander in
1620. Roses have been planted there, in graceful
recognition of the wish expressed in the epitaph :

" Here Damon lies, whose songs did sometime grace
The murmuring Esk : may roses shade the place ! "

The widow, Elizabeth Logan, and three
children survived the poet. Nine children
in all had been born to them, but six had
died young, the survivors being William, the
second son ; Robert, the third son ; and Eliza-
beth, the eldest daughter.t By his will, which

* Drummond of Hawthornden, p. 456.

t The names of Drummond's children were these:
John, William, Robert, Richard, and James ; Elizabeth,
Margaret, Annabella, and Jane.

cxvi INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

is dated September i, 1643, Drummond be-
queathed ^1000 apiece to his sons Robert and
James, and 500 marks, with his " moveables,"
as a portion to his daughter EHzabeth : the
rest of the estate would go to the eldest sur-
viving son, William. The charge of the chil-
dren was left to their mother, with whom were
conjoined Drummond's kinsman, John Stirling
of Birnay, and Richard Maitland ; but in
the event of Elizabeth Logan's marrying or
departing this life in the nonage of her chil-
dren, the charge was to devolve upon Lord
Drummond, George Preston of Craigmillar,
and William Drummond of Riccarton, with
the two gentlemen aforesaid.*

William Drummond, the poet's heir, was
knighted by Charles IL, and died in I7i3>
aged about seventy-five years. He got the
title of justice of peace by Lord Lauderdale's
favour, but was fitter, says malicious Father
Hay, in the Memoirs already cited, "to ex-
amine the condition of a pot of ale than the
circumstances of any debate that comes before
him." Professor Masson, with greater pro-
bability, represents him in his last years as
"a very respectable old Scottish gentleman,"
without any portion of his father's genius.

* See the abstract of Drummond's will in Archceologia
Scotica, vol. iv. p. 229.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR cxvii

Robert, the second surviving son, married Anna
Maxwell, sister to the Laird of Hills ^ "died
[about 1687] Roman Catholick, left noe childer-
ing," says our malicious friend, who adds that
Robert also " was mutch given to drinke." The
daughter Elizabeth married Dr. Henry Hen-
derson, a physician of Edinburgh, and died
long before 171 1. The last lineal descendant
of the poet was Barbara Mary Drummond,
great-granddaughter of Sir William. She
died in 1789, having been twice married : her
only child, a daughter by her second husband,
died at the age of thirteen, in 1777. This
second husband of Barbara Drummond was
Dr. William Abernethy, who, after his marriage,
added the surname of Drummond to his own.
He is noteworthy to us here on one account.
In 1782, Dr. Abernethy Drummond presented
to the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland the
whole of the poet's manuscripts at Hawthorn-
den, consisting of transcripts of his poems and
prose writings ; letters ; extracts from other
authors, both in prose and verse, in Drum-
mond's handwriting ; poems and fragments
by Drummond's uncle, William Fowler ; and
miscellaneous papers. Forty-five years later
these manuscripts were carefully examined,
and arranged in fifteen bound volumes, by
Mr. David Laing, and the most interesting

cxviii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

of the contents previously unpublished were
printed, with annotations by Mr. Laing, in
the fourth volume of Archceolo(ria Scotica ; or^
Trajisactions of the Society of Antiquaries of
Scotland: Edinburgh, 1831.

The following is a list, chronologically arranged,
of the previous editions of Drummond's
Works : —

Teares on the Death of Meliades.
Edinbvrgh, printed by Andro Hart, and are to
bee sold at his shop on the north side of the
high streete, a litle beneath the Crosse. 161 3.
4to. Contains (i) the Sonnet to the Author by
Alexander; (2) Tears 07i the Death of Meliades :
(3) the '''' pyramid'''' in verse; (4) the epitaph be-
ginnings " Stay, passenger." A copy of this first
editioji^ presented by Dru7?i7}zond, is itz the Uni-
versity Library at Edinburgh : there is none in
the British Museum. Of the second edition of
" Meliades " no copy is known to exist.

Mausolevm, or, The choisest Flowres of the
Epitaphs, written on the Death of the neuer-too-
much lamented Prince Henrie. Edinbvrgh,
printed by Andro Hart. Anno Dom. 161 3. 4to.
Three of the poe??is in this volume are by Drum-

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR cxix

tnond^ viz., the ^^ pyrajnid^^ aiid the epitaph fro ?n
" Meliades^^ and the soiinet begi7ini7ig^ " A pass-
ing glance," here first prijited. " There is little
doubt that the present small tract was collected
and sent forth by Druminond^ . . . and was
probably published at the same time with the
preceding work.'^ * // was reprinted in " Fugi-
tive Scottish Poetry of the Seventeeiith Century;''
Edinbiirgh^ 1825.

Teares on the Death of Mceliades.
By William Drummond of Hawthomden. The
third Edition. Edinbvrgh, printed by Andro
Hart. 1614. 4to.

Poems : Amorous, Funerall, Divine, Pas-
torall, in Sonnets, Songs, Sextains, Madrigals.
By W. D. the Author of the Teares on the
Death of Mceliades. Edinbvrgh, printed by
Andro Hart. 16 16. 4to, Co7ttains {\) Sonjiet to
the Author^ by Parthenius ; (2) Poems. The
First Part ; (3) Poc7ns. The Second Part ; (4)
Sonnet to the Author of " Mceliades" reprinted ;

(5) Tears on the Death of Mceliades^ reprinted;

(6) So7inet, " A passing glance," reprinted; (7)
a py7-a7}iid in ve7'se, reprinted ; (8) Urania, or
Spiritual Poe77is ; (9) So7met to the Author, by

* Corser's Collectanea Anglo-Poetica, vol. iii. p. 313.

cxx INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

Si?' D. Murray J (lo) Madrigals and Epigrams^
•with a Sonnet^ at the end, by Sir W. A lexander^
headed '''Alexis to Da?non"

Poems : By William Drvmmond of Haw-
thorne-denne. The second Impression. Edin-
bvrgh, printed by Andro Hart. 1616. 410.
Typographically identical with the preceding^
and apparently no " second ifHpressio?i " at all^
but a reissue of the original impression with a
new title-page.

Forth Feasting. A Panegyricke to the
Kings Most Excellent Majestie. Edinbvrgh,
printed by Andro Hart. 161 7. 4to. This was
reprinted in " The Muses' Welcome to King
Jafnes^^ Edinburgh, 1618, with the prefixed
so7inet by Druminond, which does not appear in
the original edition.

Flowres of Sion. By William Drummond
of Hawthorne-denne. To which is adjoyned his
Cypresse Grove. Printed 1623. 4to. Contains
(i) Flowres of Sion ; {2) A Cypresse Grove; (3)
" On the Report of the Death of the Author^' by
Sir IV. Alexander ; (4) Sonriet, " To S. W. A."y
(5) To the fnemory of Jane, Countess of Perth.

Flowres of Sion ; By William Drummond
of Hawthorne-denne To which is adjoyned

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR cxxi

his Cypresse Grove. Edenbovrgh, printed by
John Hart. 1630. Besides all the pieces in the
preceding edition^ this contains four 7iew poe?ns,
viz., ^^ An Hymn of the Ascensio7t^\' a Sonnet,
''Death's Last WiW ; ''The Shadow of the
Judgment "; and a Sonnet to the Obsequies of
King Ja?nes. It co7itai?ts also, at the end of the
volume, " A Table of the Hymnes and Sonnets,
with their Argujnentes^^ i.e. the headings of the
poems, which are not given with the text, as in
later editions. In some copies of this second
edition the title-page bears the i7nprint, " Printed
at Eden-Bourgh, by the Heires of Andro Hart.
Anno 1630."

The Entertainment of the high and
mighty Monarch Charles, King of Great Britaine,
France, and Ireland, into his auncient and royall
citie of Edinbvrgh, the fifteenth of June, 1633.
Printed at Edinbvrgh by John Wreittoun. 1633.
4to. In additio7i to the description of the page-
ant, and Dru7n7no7ids Speeches, &^c., in prose
and verse, this volume contains a Panegyric on
Ki7ig Charles, in verse, by Walter Forbes, which
I have 7iot included in the prese7it editio7i.

To THE Exequies of the Honovrable
Sr. Antonye Alexander, Knight, &c. A
pastorall Elegie. Edinbvrgh, printed in King

cxxii INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

James his College, by George Anderson. 1638.
4to.

The History of Scotland, from the year
1423 until the year 1542, containing the Lives
and Reigns of James the I, the II, the III,
the IV, the V. With several Memorials of
State during the Reigns of James VI and
Charles I. By William Drummond of Haw-
thomden. With a Prefatory Introduction by
Mr. Hall, of Grays-Inn. London, printed by
Henry Hills for Rich. Tomlins and himself,
and are to be sold at their houses near Py-
Corner. MDCLV. fol. T/ie '^Memorials of
State"*^ are the two papers entitled'''' Considera-
tions to the King'''' and ''''An Apologetical
Letter ^^ with ^^ A7t Intettded Speech at the
"West gate of Edinburgh to King Jajnes " (read
''''King Charles'''')^ i.e. the prose speech published
in the " Entertain7nent of King Charles^ The
volume cofttains also a selection of twenty -two
" Familiar Epistles " of Drum7nond's^ and his
essay ^ ''''A Cypress Grovel There is a second
edition of this volume^ London, 1681.

Poems, By that most famous Wit, William
Drummond of Hawthornden. London: Printed
for Richard Tomlms, at the Sun and Bible,
neare Pye- Corner. 1656. 8vo. With a preface

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR cxxiii

dy Edwaj-d Phillips^ Milto?i's nephew. It con-
tains most of the poems previously published,
and about sixty new poems ^ two of which are
certainly not by Drummond. So7ne copies have
the imprint — " London, printed by W. H. and
are to be sold in the Company of Stationers, 1656."
Scot of Scotstarvet was co7icerned i7i the publica-
tiofi of this volume of 1656, and of the preced-
ing volui7ie of prose : there exist copies of both
volu7ties beari7ig a dedicatio7i to Scotstarvet.

The most Elegant and Elabovrate
Poems of that great Court-Wit, Mr. William
Drummond. Whose Labours, both in Verse
and Prose, being heretofore so Precious to
Prince Henry and to K. Charles, shall live and
flourish in all Ages whiles there are men to
read them, or Art and Judgment to approve
them, London, printed for Wilham Rands,
Bookseller, at his House over against the Beare
Taveme in Fleet-street. 1659. 8vo, Not anew
edition at ally diet the re7n7tant of the edition of
1656, with a new and absurd title-page. A
copy in the British Museum has both title-pages
of 16^6 and 1659.

The Works of William Drummond, of
Hawthomden. Consisting of Those which were
formerly Printed, and Those which were de-

cxxiv INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR

sign'd for the Press. Now Published from the
Author's Original Copies. Edinburgh : printed
by James Watson, in Craig's- Closs, 171 1. fol.
Edited by Bishop John Sage a?id Thomas
Riiddiman. Co7itains all the pieces^ both in
prose and verse, which had appeared in pre-
vious editions; about forty additional poeins^
ma?7y of them of very doubt fid authe?iticity ;
the various prose tracts me7itioned in the course
of our " Introductory Memoir ^'^ and one or two
other prose papers j a further selection from
Drumjno7id^s correspondence j and a Memoir
by Bishop Sage, which is the principal early
authority for the life of Dru?n?nond.

The Poems of William Drummond, of
Hawthornden. London, printed for E.
Jeffery, Pall Mall, MDCCXCI. 8vo. In Cor-
ser's " Collectanea " is catalogued a copy of this
edition which bears the impri?it — " London,
printed for J. Jeffery, Pall Mall. MDCCXC."

The Poetical Works of William Drum-
mond, Esq. Edinburgh, 1793. ^^o. Forming
part of the fourth volume of Anderson^ s " Works
of the British Poeis^'' pp. 619-698,

The Poems of William Drummond.
London, 18 10. 8vo, In Chal?ners's " Works of
the English Poets, ^^ vol. v. pp. 637-712.

INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR cxxt

The Poems of William Drummond of
Hawthornden. Printed at Edinburgh :
MDCCCXXXII. 4to. Privately printed for the
Maitland Club. A 7nag7iifice7it volu7ne, edited
with extre7ne care fro7ii the 07'igi7ial editioTis.
Besides all the poe77is which had appeared in
previous editions., a7td " A Cypress Grove ^^ this
volu7ne contai7is certai7i Conmiendatory Verses
by Dru77i77i07id 7iow first collected fro77i the
volu772es to which they were prefixed ; a con-
siderable nu7nber of poe77is f)077i the Haw-
thornden MSS., 7-eprinted fro77i '''' Archceologia
Scotica'''' ; '■''Lines on the Bishops^"^ fro77i a MS.
in the Advocated Library.

The Poems of William Drummond, of
Hawthornden : with Life, by Peter Cunning-
ham. London, 1833. 8vo. Another edition^
Edinburgh, 1852,

The Poetical Works of WilliaiM Drum-
mond OF Hawthornden. Edited by William
B. Turnbull London, 1856. 8vo. Reissued^
London, 1890.

TEARS ON THE DEATH OF
MCELIADES

TO THE AUTHOR OF

TEARS ON THE DEATH OF
MGELIADES

In zvaves ofivoe thy sighs viy soul do toss.
And do burst tip the conduits of my tears.
Whose rankling tuotind no soothing balm long bears,
But freshly bleeds when aught itpbraids my loss.
Then thou so sweetly sorrow makes to sing.
And troubled passions dost so well accord.
That more delight thine anguish doth aff'ord^
Than others' joys can satisfactioii bring.
What sacred wits, when ravisKd, do affect.
To force affectionSy metamorphose minds.
Whilst numbi'ous power the soul in secret binds ^
Thou hast performed, transforming in effect :
For never plaints did greater pity ?nove.
The best applause that can such notes approve.

SIR W. ALEXANDER.

TEARS ON THE DEATH OF
MCELIADES

O Heavens ! then is it true that thou art gone,

And left this woful isle her loss to moan,

Mceliades,* bright day-star of the west,

A comet, blazing terror to the east ;

And neither that thy spright so heavenly wise, 5

Nor body, though of earth, more pure than skies,

Nor royal stem, nor thy sweet tender age,

Of adamantine Fates could quench the rage ?

O fading hopes ! O short-while-lasting joy

Of earth-born man, which one hour can destroy ! lo

Then even of virtue's spoils death trophies rears,

As if he gloried most in many tears.

Forc'd by grim Destines, Heavens neglect our cries.

Stars seem set only to act tragedies :

And let them do their worst, since thou art gone, 35

Raise whom they list to thrones, enthron'd dethrone ;

* The name which in these verses is given to Prince
Henry, is that which he himself, in the challenges of his
martial sports and masquerades, was wont to use,
McF,LiADi:s, Prince of the Isles, which, in anagram,
maketh Miles a Deo. [Noie by the author.']
s

6 TEARS ON THE

Stain princely bowers with Ijlood, and, even to

Gange,
In cypress sad glad Hymen's torches change.
Ah ! thou hast left to live, and in the time
When scarce thou blossom'd in thy pleasant prime : 20
So falls by northern blast a virgin rose,
At half that doth her bashful bosom close ;
So a sweet flourish languishing decays,
That late did blush when kiss'd by Phoebus" rays ;
So Phcebus mounting the meridian's height, 25

Choked by pale Phoebe, faints unto our sight ;
Astonish'd nature sullen stands to see
The life of all this All so changed to be ;
In gloomy gowns the stars about deplore,
The sea with murnmring mountains beats the shore, so
Black darkness reels o'er all, in thousand showers
The weeping air on earth her sorrow pours,
That, in a palsy, quakes to find so soon
Her lover set, and night burst forth ere noon.

If Heaven, alas ! ordain'd thee young to die, 35
Why was it not where thou thy might did'st try,
And to the hopeful world at least set forth
Some little spark of thine expected worth?
Moeliades, O that by Ister's streams.
Amongst shrill-sounding trumpets, flaming gleams 40
Of warm encrimson'd swords, and cannons' roar.
Balls thick as rain pour'd by the Caspian shore,
Amongst crush'd lances, ringing helms, and shields,
Dismember'd bodies ravishing the fields,
In Turkish blood made red like Mars's star, 4.5

Thou ended hadst thy life, and Christian war I

DEATH OF MCELIADES 7

Or, as brave Bourbon, thou hadst made old Rome,
Queen of the world, thy triumph's place and tomb !
So heaven's fair face, to the unborn v^^hich reads,
A book had been of thine illustrious deeds ; so

So to their nephews * aged sires had told
The high exploits performed by thee of old ;
Towns raz'd, and rais'd, victorious, vanquish'd bands,
Fierce tyrants flying, foil'd, kill'd by thy hands ;
And in dear arras virgins fair had wrought 5.-.

The bays and trophies to thy country brought ;
While some new Homer, imping pens to fame,
Deaf Nilus' dwellers had made hear thy name.
That thou didst not attain those honours' spheres.
It was not want of worth, O no, but years. &•

A youth more brave pale Troy with trembling walls
Did never see, nor she whose name appals
Both Titan's golden bowers, for bloody fights
Must'ring on Mars's field such Mars-like knights.
The heavens had brought thee to the highest height 6->
Of wit and courage, showing all their might
\\Tien they thee fram'd : ay me ! that what is brave
On earth, they as their own so soon should crave !
Moeliades sweet courtly nymphs deplore,
From Thule to Hydaspes' pearly shore. T'>

When Forth thy nurse. Forth where thou first didst
pass
Thy tender days (who smil'd oft on her glass
To see thee gaze), meand'ring with her streams,
Heard thou hadst left this round, from Phcebus' beams

* Nephews : grandchildren ; Lat. nepote$.

S TEARS ON THE

She sought to fly, but forced to return 73

By neighbour brooks, she gave herself to mourn ;
And as she rush'd her Cyclades among,
She seem'd to plain that Heaven had done her

wrong.
With a hoarse plaint, Clyde down her steepy rocks,
And Tweed through her green mountains clad with

flocks, 80

Did wound the ocean, murmuring thy death ;

The ocean that roar'd about the earth.

And it to Mauritanian Atlas told,

Who shrunk through grief, and down his white hairs

roll'd
Huge streams of tears, that changed were in floods, 85
With which he drown'd the neighbour plains and

woods.
The lesser brooks, as they did bubbling go,
Did keep a consort unto public woe ;
The shepherds left their flocks with downcast eyes.
Disdaining to look up to angry skies ; 90

Some broke their pipes, and some in sweet-sad lays
Made senseless things amazed at thy praise.
His reed Alexis * hung upon a tree,
And with his tears made Doven great to be.
Moeliades sweet courtly nymphs deplore, ;«

From Thule to Hydaspes' pearly shore.

Chaste maids which haunt fair Aganippe's well,
And you in Tempe's sacred shade who dwell,

* Sir William Alexander, who also wrote an elegy on
Prince Henry's death.

DEATH OF MCELIADES 9

Let fall your harps, cease tunes of joy to sing,
Dishevelled make all Parnassus ring kx.

With anthems sad ; thy music, Phoebus, turn
In doleful plaints, whilst joy itself doth mourn :
Dead is thy darling who decor'd thy bays,
WTio oft was wont to cherish thy sweet lays,
And to a trumpet raise thine amorous style, 105

That floating Delos envy might this isle.
You Acidalian archers break your bows,
Your brandons quench, with tears blot beauty's snows,
And bid your weeping mother yet again
A second Adon's death, nay Mars's plain. no

His eyes once were your darts, nay, even his name.
Wherever heard, did every heart inflame :
Tagus did court his love with golden streams,
Rhine with his towns, fair Seine with all she claims.
But ah ! poor lovers, death did them betray, 115

And, not suspected, made their hopes his prey.
Tagus bewails his loss with golden streams,
Rhine with his towns, fair Seine with all she claims.
Moeliades sweet courtly nymphs deplore,
From Thule to Hydaspes' pearly shore. i»'

Delicious ineads, whose chequer'd plain forth brings
White, golden, azure flowers, which once were kings,
In mourning black their shining colours dye.
Bow down their heads, whilst sighing zephyrs fly.
Queen of the fields, whose blush makes blush the
morn, ]J5

Sweet rose, a prince's death in purple mourn ;
O hyacinths, for aye your AI keep still,
Nay, with more marks of woe your leaves now fill ;

lo TEARS ON THE

And you, O flower of Helen's tears first born,

Into those liquid pearls again you turn ; iso

Your green locks, forests, cut ; in weeping myrrhs,

The deadly cypress, and ink-dropping firs.

Your palms and myrtles change ; from shadows

dark,
Wing'd syrens, wail ; and you, sad echoes, mark
The lamentable accents of their moan, 135

And plain that brave Moeliades is gone.
Stay, sky, thy turning course, and now become
A stately arch unto the earth, his tomb ;
Over which aye the wat'ry Iris keep,
And sad Electra's «isters which still weep. i4o

Moeliades sweet courtly nymphs deplore.
From Thule to Hydaspes' pearly shore.

Dear ghost, forgive these our untimely tears,
By which our loving mind, though weak, appears ;
Our loss, not thine, when we complain, we weep, 145
For thee the glist'ring walls of heaven do keep
Beyond the planets' wheels, above that source
Of spheres, that turns the lower in its course,
Where sun doth never set, nor ugly night
Ever appears in mourning garments dight ; iso

Where Boreas' stormy trumpet doth not sound,
Nor clouds, in lightnings bursting, minds astound ;
From care's cold climates far, and hot desire.
Where time is banish'd, ages ne'er expire ;
Amongst pure sprights environed with beams, i;5

Thou think'st all things below to be but dreams,
And joy'st to look down to the azur'd bars
Of heaven, indented all with streamincr stars ;

DEATH OF MCELIADES ii

And in their turning temples to behold,

In silver robe the moon, the sun in gold, iii>

Like young eye-speaking lovers in a dance,

With majesty by turns retire, advance.

Thou wond'rest earth to see hang like a ball,

Clos'd in the ghastly cloister of this All ;

And that poor men should prove so madly fond, 165

To toss themselves for a small foot of ground,

Nay, that they even dare brave the powers above,

From this base stage of change that cannot move.

All worldly pomp and pride thou seest arise

Like smoke, that scatt'reth in the empty skies. iro

Other hills and forests, other sumptuous towers,

Amaz'd thou find'st, excelling our poor bowers ;

Courts void of flattery, of malice minds,

Pleasure which lasts, not such as reason blinds :

Far sweeter songs thou hear'st and carollings, 175

WTiilst heavens do dance, and quire of angels

sings.
Than mouldy minds could feign : even our annoy.
If it approach that place, is chang'd in joy.

Rest, blessed spright, rest satiate with the sight
Of him whose beams both dazzle and delight, ]»>

Life of all lives, cause of each other cause,
The sphere and centre where the mind doth pause ;
Narcissus of himself, himself the well.
Lover, and beauty, that doth all excel.
Rest, happy ghost, and wonder in that glass iss

Where seen is all that shall be, is, or was.
While shall be, is, or was do pass away,
And nought remain but nn eternal day :

12 THE DEATH OF MCELIADES

For ever rest ; thy praise fame may enrol
In golden annals, whilst about the pole
The slow Bootes turns, or sun doth rise
With scarlet scarf, to cheer the mourning skies
The virgins to thy tomb may garlands bear
Of flowers, and on each flower let fall a tear.
Mojliades sweet courtly nymphs deplore.
From Thule to Hydaspes' pearly shore.

SONNET

A PASSING glance, a lightning 'long the skies,
That, ush'ring thunder, dies straight to our sight ;
A spark, of contraries which doth arise,
Then drowns in the huge depths of day and night ;
Is this small Small call'd life, held in such price
Of blinded wights, who nothing judge aright :
Of Parthian shaft so swift is not the flight
As life, that wastes itself, and living dies.
O ! what is human greatness, valour, wit ?
What fading beauty, riches, honour, praise ?
To what doth serve in golden thrones to sit,
Thrall earth's vast round, triumphal arches raise ?
All is a dream, learn in this prince's fall.
In whom, save death, nought mortal was at all.

EPITAPH

Stay, passenger, see where enclosed lies
The paragon of princes, fairest frame
Time, nature, place, could show to mortal eyes,
In worth, wit, virtue, miracle to fame :
At least that part the earth of him could claim
This marble holds, hard like the Destinies :
For as to his brave spirit and glorious name,
The one the world, the other fills the skies.
Th' immortal amaranthus, princely rose,
Sad violet, and that sweet flower that bears
In sanguine spots the tenor of our woes,
Spread on this stone, and wash it with thy tears :
Then go and tell, from Gades unto Ind,
Thou saw where earth's perfections were confin'

A
T

OF JET,

OR PORPHYRY,

OR THAT WHITE STON'E

PAROS AFFORDS ALONE,

OR THOSE IN AZURE DYE,

WHICH SEEM TO SCORN THE SKY ;

HERE MEMPHIS* WONDERS DO NOT SET,

NOR Artemisia's huge frame.

THAT KEEPS SO LONG HER LOVER's NAME:

MAKE NO GREAT MARBLE ATLAS TREMBLE W'lTH GOLD,

TO PLEASE A VULGAR EYE THAT DOTH BEHOLD:

THE MUSES, PHCEBUS, LOVE, HAVE RAISED OF THEIR TEARS

A CRYSTAL TOMB TO HIM, THROUGH WHICH HIS WORTH APPEARS

POEMS

VOL. 1.

TO THE AUTHOR

While thou dost praise the roses, HIies, gold,
Which in a dangling tress and face appear,
Still stands the sun in skies thy songs to hear,
A silence sweet each whispering wind doth hold ;
Sleep in Pasithea's lap his eyes doth fold, 5

The sword falls from the God of the fifth sphere.
The herds to feed, the birds to sing, forbear,
Each plant breathes love, each flood and fountain

cold ;
And hence it is, that that once nymph, now tree,
Who did th' Amphrysian shepherd's sighs disdain, 10
And scorn'd his lays, mov'd by a sweeter vein,
Is become pitiful, and follows thee,

Thee loves, and vaunteth that she hath the grace,
A garland for thy locks to interlace.

Parthenius.

19

POEM S

THE FIRST PART

SONNET I.

In my first years, and prime yet not at height,

When sweet conceits my wits did entertain,

Ere beauty's force I knew, or false delight,

Or to what oar she did her captives chain.

Led by a sacred troop of Phcebus' train, 5

I first began to read, then lov'd to write,

And so to praise a perfect red and while,

But, God wot, wist not what was in my brain :

Love smil'd to see in what an awful guise

I turn'd those antiques of the age of gold, ]o

And, that I might more mysteries behold,

He set so fair a volume to mine eyes,

That I (quires clos'd which, dead, dead sighs but
breathe)

Joy on this living book to read my death.

22 POEMS

SONNET II.

I KNOW that all beneath the moon decays,
And what by mortals in this world is brought,
In Time's great periods shall return to nought ;
That fairest states have fatal nights and days ;
I know how all the Muse's heavenly lays,
With toil of spright which are so dearly bought.
As idle sounds, of few or none are sought,
And that nought lighter is than airy praise ;
I know frail beauty like the purple flower,
To which one morn oft birth and death affords ;
That love a jarring is of minds' accords,
Where sense and will invassal reason's power :
Know what I list, this all can not me move,
But that, O me ! I both must write and love.

POEMS 23

SONNET III.

Ve who so curiously do paint your ihoughts,
Enlight'ning ev'ry line in such a guise,
That they seem rather to have fall'n from skies,
Than of a human hand be mortal draughts ;
In one part Sorrow so tormented lies,
As if his life at ev'ry sigh would part ;
Love here blindfolded stands with bow and dart,
There Hope looks pale. Despair with rainy eyes :
Of my rude pencil look not for such art,
My wit I find now lessened to devise
So high conceptions to express my smart.
And some think love but feign'd, if too too wise.
These troubled words and lines confus'd you find,
Are like unto their model, my sick mind.

24 POEMS

SONNET IV.

Fair is my yoke, though grievous be my pains,
Sweet are my wounds, although they deeply smart,
^ly bit is gold, though shortened be the reins,
My bondage brave, though I may not depart :
Although I burn, the fire which doth impart
Those flames, so sweet re\'iving force contains,
That, like Arabia's bird, my wasted heart,
Made quick by death, more lively still remains.
I joy, though oft my waking eyes spend tears,
I never want delight, even when I groan,
Best companied when most I am alone ;
A heaven of hopes I have midst hells of fears.
Thus every way contentment strange I find.
But most in her rare beauty, my rare mind.

POEMS 25

SONNET V.

How that vast heaven intitled First is roll'd,

If any other worlds beyond it lie.

And people living in eternity,

Or essence pure that doth this All uphold ;

What motion have those fixed sparks of gold, 5

The wand'ring carbuncles which shine from high,

By sprights, or bodies, contrare-ways in sky

If they be turn'd, and mortal things behold ;

How sun posts heaven about, how night's pale queen

With borrowed beams looks on this hanging round, 10

What cause fair Iris hath, and monsters seen

In air's large fields of light, and seas profound,

Did hold my wand'ring thoughts, when thy sweet eye
Bade me leave all, and only think on thee.

26 POEMS

SONNET VI.

Vaunt not, fair heavens, of your two glorious lights
Which, though most bright,yet see not when they shine,
And shining, cannot show their beams divine
Both in one place, but part by days and nights ;
Earth, vaunt not of those treasures ye enshrine, 5

Held only dear because hid from our sights.
Your pure and burnish'd gold, your diamonds fine,
Snow-passing ivory that the eye delights ;
Nor, seas, of those dear wares are in you found,
Vaunt not, rich pearl, red coral, which do stir lo

A fond desire in fools to plunge your ground ;
Those all, more fair, are to be had in her :
Pearl, ivory, coral, diamond, suns, gold,
Teeth, neck, lips, heart, eyes, hair, are to behold.

FOEMS 27

SONNET VII.

That learned Grecian,* who did so excel
In knowledge passing sense, that he is nam'd
Of all the after-worlds divine, doth tell,
That at the time when first our souls are fram'd,
Ere in these mansions blind they come to dwell,
They live bright rays of that eternal light,
And others see, know, love, in heaven's great height,
Not toil'd with aught to reason doth rebel.
Most true it is, for straight at the first sight
My mind me told, that in some other place 1

It elsewhere saw the idea of that face,
And lov'd a love of heavenly pure delight ;
No wonder now I feel so fair a flame,
Sith I her lov'd ere on this earth she came.

* Plato.

z8 POEMS

SONNET VIII.

Now while the night her sable veil hath spread,
And silently her resty coach doth roll,
Rousing with her from Tethys' azure bed
Those starry nymphs which dance about the pole ;
While Cynthia, in purest cypress clad, i

The Latmian shepherd in a trance descries,
And whiles looks pale from height of all the skies.
Whiles dyes her beauties in a bashful red ;
While sleep, in triumph, closed hath all eyes,
And birds and beasts a silence sweet do keep, n

And Proteus' monstrous people in the deep,
The winds and waves, husht up, to rest entice ;
I wake, muse, weep, and who my heart hath slain
See still before me to augment my pain.

POEMS

29

SONNET IX.

Sleep, Silence' child, sweet father of soft rest,

Prince, whose approach peace to all mortals brings,

Indifferent host to shepherds and to kings,

Sole comforter of minds with grief opprest ;

Lo, by thy charming rod all breathing things

Lie slumb'ring, with forgetfulness posSvist,

And yet o'er me to spread thy drowsy wings

Thou spares, alas ! who cannot be thy guest.

Since I am thine, O come, but with that face

To inward light which thou art wont to show, 1

With feigned solace ease a true-felt woe ;

Or if, deaf god, thou do deny that grace,

Come as thou wilt, and what thou wilt bequeath,

I long to kiss the image of my death.

30

POEMS

SONNET X.

Fair Moon, who with thy cold and silver shine
Makes sweet the horror of the dreadful night,
Delighting the weak eye with smiles divine,
Which Phoebus dazzles with his too much light ;
Bright Queen of the first Heaven, if in thy shrine,
By turning oft, and Heaven's eternal might,
Thou hast not yet that once sweet fire of thine,
Endymion, forgot, and lover's plight ;
If cause like thine may pity breed in thee.
And pity somewhat else to it obtain,
Since thou hast power of dreams, as well as he
Who paints strange figures in the slumb'ring brain,
Now while she sleeps, in doleful guise her show
These tears, and the black map of all my woe.

POEMS 31

SONNET XL

Lamp of heaven's crystal hall that brings the hours,

Eye-dazzler, who makes the ugly night

At thine approach fly to her slumb'ry bow'rs,

And fills the world with wonder and delight ;

Life of all lives, death-giver by thy flight z

To southern pole from these six signs of ours,

Goldsmith of all the stars, with silver bright

Who moon enamels, Apelles of the flow'rs ;

Ah ! from those watery plains thy golden head

Raise up, and bring the so long lingering morn ; 10

A grave, nay, hell, I find become this bed,

This bed so grievously where I am torn ;

But, woe is me ! though thou now brought the day.
Day shall but serve more sorrow to display.

32 POEMS

SONG I.

It was the time when to our northern pole
The brightest lamp of heaven begins to roll ;
When earth more wanton in new robes appeareth,
And, scorning skies, her flow'rs in rainbows beareth,
On which the air moist sapphires doth bequeath, 5
Which quake to feel the kissing zephyrs' breath ;
When birds from shady groves their love forth warble,
And sea like heaven, heaven looks like smoothest

marble ;
When I, in simple course, free from all cares.
Far from the muddy world's captiving snares, lo

By Ora's flow'ry banks alone did wander,
Ora that sports her like to old Meander ;
A flood more worthy fame and lasting praise
Than that which Phaethon's fall so high did raise,*
Into whose moving glass the milk-white lilies is

Do dress their tresses, and the daffodillies.
Where Ora with a wood is crown'd about,
And seems forget the way how to come out,
A place there is, where a delicious fountain
Springs from the swelling paps of a proud mountain, 20

* The river Eridanus, or Po, into which Phaethon fell.

POEMS

33

Whose falling streams the quiet caves do wound,

And make the echoes shrill resound that sound.

The laurel there the shining channel graces,

The palm her love with long stretch'd arms embraces,

The poplar spreads her branches to the sky, 25

And hides from sight that azure canopy ;

The streams the trees, the trees their leaves still nourish,

That place grave winter finds not without flourish.*

If living eyes Elysian fields could see,

This little Arden might Elysium be. 30

Here Dian often used to repose her,

And Acidalia's queen with Mars rejoice her ;

The nymphs oft here do bring their maunds with flow'rs,

And anadems weave for their paramours ;

The Satyrs in these shades are heard to languish, 35

And make the shepherds partners of their anguish,

The shepherds who in barks of tender trees

Do grave their loves, disdains, and jealousies.

Which Phillis, when thereby her flocks she feedeth.

With pity whiles, sometime with laughter readeth. 40

Near to this place, when sun in midst of day
In highest top of heaven his coach did stay.
And, as advising, on his career glanced
The way did rest, the space he had advanced +
His panting steeds along those fields of light, 45

Most princely looking from that ghastly height ;
W^hen most the grasshoppers are heard in meadows.
And lofty pines have small or else no shadows,

* Flourish : flowers. Cf. Tears on the Death of
Mceliades, line 23.

t As all along that morn he had advanced — Ed. 1656.
vol.. I. c.

34

POEMS

Tt was my hap, O woful hap ! to bide
Where thickest shades me from all rays did hide, m
Into a shut-up place, some Sylvan's chamber,
Whose ceiling spread was with the locks of amber
Of new-bloom'd sycamores, floor wrought with flowers
More sweet and rich than those in princes' bowers.
Here Adon blush'd, and Clytia all amaz'd 55

Look'd pale, with him who in the fountain gaz'd ;
The amaranthus smil'd, and that sweet boy
Which sometime was the god of Delos' joy ;
The brave carnation, speckled pink here shined,
The violet her fainting head declined w

Beneath a drowsy chasbow, all of gold,
The marigold her leaves did here unfold.

Now, while that ravish'd with delight and wonder,
Half in a trance I lay those arches under,
The season, silence, place, did all entice 65

Eyes' heavy lids to bring night on their skies.
Which softly having stolen themselves together,
Like evening clouds, me plac'd I wot not whither.
As cowards leave the fort which they should keep,
My senses one by one gave place to Sleep, ra

Who, followed with a troop of golden slumbers,
Thrust from my quiet brain all base encumbers,
And thrice me touching with his rod of gold,
A heaven of visions in my temples roll'd,
To countervail those pleasures were bereft me ; 75
Thus in his silent prison clos'd he left me.

Methought through all the neighbour woods a
noise
Of quiristers, more sweet than lute or voice

POEMS

35

(For those harmonious sounds to Jove are given

By the swift touclies of the nine-string'd heaven, so

Such are, and nothing else), did wound mine ear.

No, soul, that then became all ear to hear :

And whilst I list'ning lay, O ghastly wonder !

I saw a pleasant myrtle cleave asunder ;

A myrtle great with birth, from whose rent womb 85

Three naked nymphs more white than snow forth

come,
For nymphs they seem'd ; about their heavenly faces
In waves of gold did flow their curling tresses ;
About each arm, their arms more white than milk,
Each wore a blushing armelet of silk. 90

The goddesses were such that by Scamander
Appeared to the Phrygian Alexander ;
Aglaia, and her sisters, such perchance
Be, when about some sacred spring they dance.
But scarce the grove their naked beauties graced, 95
And on the amorous verdure had not traced.
When to the flood they ran, the flood in robes
Of curling crystal to breasts' ivory globes
Who wrapt them all about, yet seem'd take pleasure
To show warm snows throughout her liquid azure. 100

Look how Prometheus' man, when heavenly fire
First gave him breath, day's brandon * did admire.
And wond'red of this world's amphitheatre ;
So gaz'd I on those new guests of the water.
All three were fair, yet one excell'd as far io«

The rest as Phoebus doth the Cyprian star,

* Brandon : torch ; sc. the sun.

36 POEMS

Or diamonds small gems, or gems do other,

Or pearls that shining shell is call'd their mother.

Her hair, more bright than are the morning's beams,
Hung in a golden shower above the streams, nn

And, sweetly tous'd, her forehead sought to cover,
Which seen did straight a sky of milk discover,
With two fair brows, love's bows, which never

bend
But that a golden arrow fortli they send ;
Beneath the which two burning planets glancing, ns
Flash'd flames of love, for love there still is dancing.
Her either cheek resembl'd a blushing morn,
Or roses gules in field of lilies borne.
Betwixt the which a wall so fair is raised,
That it is but abased even when praised ; 120

Her lips like rows of coral soft did swell,
And th' one like th' other only doth excel :
The Tyrian fish looks pale, pale look the roses.
The rubies pale, when mouth's sweet cherry closes.
Her chin like silver Phoebe did appear 125

Dark in the midst to make the rest more clear ;
Her neck seemed fi-am'd by curious Phidias' master.
Most smooth, most white, a piece of alabaster.
Two foaming billows flow'd upon her breast,
Which did their tops with coral red encrest ; 130

There all about, as brooks them sport at leisure,
W^ith circling branches veins did swell in azure :
W^ithin those crooks are only found those isles
Which Fortunate the dreaming old world styles.
The rest the streams did hide, but as a lily 135

.Sunk in a crystal's fair transparent belly.

POEMS 37

I, who yet human weakness did not know,
For yet I had not felt that archer's bow,
Ne could I think that from the coldest water
The winged youngling burning flames could scatter, ho
On every part my vagabonding sight
Did cast, and drown mine eyes in sweet delight.
What wondrous thing is this that beauty's named !
Said I ; I find I heretofore have dreamed,
And never known in all my flying days 145

Good unto this, that only merits praise.
My pleasures have been pains, my comforts crosses,
My treasure poverty, my gains but losses.

0 precious sight ! which none doth else descry,
Except the burning sun, and quivering I. 150
And yet, O dear-bought sight I O would for ever

1 might enjoy you, or had joy'd you never !
O happy flood ! if so ye might abide !

Yet ever glory of this moment's pride,

Adjure your rillets all now to behold her, 155

And in their crystal arms to come and fold her ;

And sith ye may not aye your bliss embrace,

Draw thousand portraits of her on your face,

Portraits which in my heart be more apparent,

If like to yours my breast but were transparent. 16O

O that I were, while she doth in you play,

A dolphin to transport her to the sea !

To none of all those gods I would her render.

From Thule to Ind though I should with her

wander.
Oh ! what is this ? the more I fix mine eye, i65

Mine eye the more new wonders doth espy ;

5H5*>0

38 POEMS

The more I spy, the more in imcouth fashion

My soul is ravish'il in a pleasant passion.

But look not, eyes : as more I would have said,

A sound of whirling wheels me all dismay'd, im

And with the sound forth from the timorous bushes,

With storm -like course, a sumptuous chariot rushes,

A chariot all of gold, the wheels were gold.

The nails, and axe-tree gold on which it roll d ;

The upmost part a scarlet veil did cover, 175

More rich than Danae's lap spread with her lover.

In midst of it, in a triumphing chair,

A lady sat, miraculously fair,

WTiose pensive countenance, and looks of honour,

Do more allure the mind that thinketh on her, iso

Than the most wanton face and amorous eyes.

That Amathus or flow'ry Paphos sees.

A crew of virgins made a ring about her.

The diamond she, they seem the gold without

her.
Such Thetis is, when to the billows' roar jss

With mermaids nice she danceth on the shore :
So in a sable night the sun's bright sister
Among the lesser twinkling lights doth glister.
Fair yokes of erm.elines whose colour pass
The whitest snows on aged Grampius' face, iso

More swift than Venus' birds this chariot guided
To the astonish'd bank whereas it bided :
But long it did not bide, when poor those streams,
Ay me ! it made, transporting those rich gems.
And by that burthen lighter, swiftly drived 195

Till, as raethought, it at a tower arrived.

POEMS 39

Upon a rock of crystal shining clear,
Of diamonds this castle did appear.
Whose rising spires of gold so high them reared,
That, Atlas-like, it seem'd the heaven they beared. 200
Amidst which heights on arches did arise,
Arches which gilt flames brandish to the skies.
Of sparkling topazes, proud, gorgeous, ample,
Like to a little heaven, a sacred temple,
Whose walls no windows have, nay all the wall -jog
Is but one Nvindow ; night there doth not fall
]More when the sun to western worlds declineth,
Than in our zenith when at noon he shineth.
Two flaming hills the passage strait defend
Which to this radiant building doth ascend, tm

Upon whose arching tops, on a pilaster,
A port stands open, rais'd in love's disaster ;
For none that narrow bridge and gate can pass,
"VMio have their faces seen in Venus' glass.
If those within but to come forth do venture, 215

That stately place again they never enter.
The precinct strengthened with a ditch appears,
In which doth swell a lake of inky tears
Of madding lovers, who abide there moaning,
And thicken even the air with piteous groaning. L-20
This hold, to brave the skies, the Destines fram'd,
The world the Fort of Chastity it nam'd.
The Queen * of the third Heaven once to appal it
The god of Thrace here brought, who could not
thrall it,

* Venus.

40 POEMS

For which he vow'd ne'er arms more to put on, 225
And on Rhipsean hills was heard to groan.
Here Psyche's lover hurls his darts at random,
Which all for nought him serve, as doth his brandon.

What bitter anguish did invade my mind.
When in that place my hope I saw confin'd, 230

Where with high-tow'ring thoughts I only reach'd her,
Which did burn up their wings when they approach'd

her !
Methought I set me by a cypress shade,
And night and day the hyacinth there read ;
And that bewailing nightingales did borrow 233

Plaints of my plaint, and sorrows of my sorrow.
My food was wormwood, mine own tears my drink.
My rest, on death and sad mishaps to think.
And for such thoughts to have my heart enlarged.
And ease mine eyes with briny tribute charged, 240
Over a brook, methought, my pining face
I laid, which then, as griev'd at my disgrace,
A face me show'd again so overclouded,
That at the sight mine eyes afraid them shrouded.
This is the guerdon. Love, this is the gain 245

In end which to thy servants doth remain,
I would have said, when fear made sleep to leave me.
And of those fatal shadows did bereave me ;
But ah, alas ! instead to dream of love
And woes, me made them in effect to prove ; 250

For what into my troubled brain was painted,
I waking found that time and place presented.

POEMS 41

SONNET XII.

Ah ! burning thoughts, now let me take some rest,

And your tumultuous broils a while appease ;

Is 't not enough, stars, fortune, love molest

jVIe all at once, but ye must too displease ?

Let hope, though false, yet lodge within my breast, 5

INIy high attempt, though dangerous, yet praise.

What though I trace not right heaven's steepy ways?

It doth suffice, my fall shall make me blest.

I do not doat on days, nor fear not death ;

So that my life be brave, what though not long ? 10

Let me renown'd live from the vulgar throng.

And when ye list. Heavens ! take this borrowed breath.

Men but like visions are, time all doth claim ;

He lives, who dies to win a lasting name.

42

POEMS

MADRIGAL I.

A D^DAL * of my death,

Now I resemble that subtle worm on earth,

Which, prone to its own evil, can take no rest ;

For with strange thoughts possest,

I feed on fading leaves

Of hope, which me deceives,

And thousand webs doth warp within my breast

And thus in end unto myself I weave

A fast-shut prison, no, but even a grave.

* Dasdal • contriver.

POEMS 43

SEXTAIN I.

The heaven doth not contain so many stars,

So many leaves not prostrate lie in woods,

When autumn's old, and Boreas sounds his wars,

So many waves have not the ocean floods,

As my rent mind hath torments all the night, 5

And heart spends sighs, when Phcebus brings the lii^ht.

Why should I been * a partner of the light,

Who, crost in birth by bad aspects of stars,

Have never since had happy day nor night ?

Why was not I a liver in the woods, n

Or citizen of Thetis' crystal floods,

Than made a man for love and fortune's wars ?

I look each day when death should end the wars,

Uncivil wars, 'twixt sense and reason's light ;

My pains I count to mountains, meads, and floods, is

And of my sorrow partners make the stars ;

All desolate I haunt the fearful woods.

When I should give myself to rest at night.

With watchful eyes I ne'er behold the night,
Mother of peace, but ah ! to me of wars, 20

* Why was I made — Ed. 1656.

44 POEMS

And Cynthia queen-like shining through the woods,
When straight those lamps come in my thought,

whose light
My judgment dazzled, passing brightest stars.
And then mine eyes en-isle themselves with floods.

Turn to their springs again first shall the floods, 25

Clear shall the sun the sad and gloomy night,

To dance about the pole cease shall the stars,

The elements renew their ancient wars

Shall first, and be depriv'd of place and light,

Ere I find rest in city, fields, or woods. 30

End these my days, indwellers of the woods,
Take this my life, ye deep and raging floods ;
Sun, never rise to clear me with thy light,
Horror and darkness, keep a lasting night ;
Consume me, care, with thy intestine wars, 35

And stay your influence o'er me, bright stars !

In vain the stars, indwellers of the woods,
Care, horror, wars, I call, and raging floods,
For all have sworn no night shall dim my light.*

* Most editions (including that of 1616) read here
"sight" for " light " ; bv;t surely the latter is the word
required.

POEMS 45

SONNET XIII.

O SACRED blush, impurpling cheeks' pure skies
With crimson wings which spread thee like the morn ;
O bashful look, sent from those shining eyes.
Which, though cast down on earth, couldst heaven

adorn ;
O tongue, in which most luscious nectar lies, o

That can at once both bless and make forlorn ;
Dear coral lip, which beauty beautifies.
That trembling stood ere that her words were born ;
And you her words, words, no, but golden chains,
Which did captive mine ears, ensnare my soul, lo

Wise image of her mind, mind that contains
A power, all power of senses to control ;
Ye all from love dissuade so sweetly me,
That I love more, if more my love could be.

46 POEMS

SONNET XIV.

Nor A.rne, nor Mincius, nor stately Tiber,
Sebethus, nor the flood into whose streams
He fell who burnt the world with borrow' d beams,
Gold-roiling Tagus, Munda, famous Iber,
Sorgue, Rhone, Loire, Garron, nor proud-banked
Seine. i

Peneus, Phasis, Xanthus, humble Ladon,
Nor she whose nymphs excel her who lov'd Adon,
Fair Tamesis, nor Ister large, nor Rhine,
Euphrates, Tigris, Indus, Hermus, Gange,
Pearly Hydaspes, serpent-like Meander, lo

The gulf bereft sweet Hero her Leander,
Nile, that far far his hidden head doth range,
Have ever had so rare a cause of praise,
As Ora, where this northern Phoenix stays.

POEMS 47

SONNET XV.

To hear my plaints, fair river crystalline,
Thou in a silent slumber seems to stay ;
Delicious flow'rs, lily and columbine,
Ye bow your heads when I my woes display ;
Forests, in you the myrtle, palm, and bay, 6

Have had compassion list'ning to my groans ;
The winds with sighs have solemniz'd my moans
'Mong leaves, which whispered what they could not

say;
The caves, the rocks, the hills, the Sylvans' thrones,
(As if even pity did in them appear) lo

Have at my sorrows rent their ruthless stones ;
Each thing I find hath sense except my dear,
Who doth not think I love, or will not know
My grief, perchance delighting in my woe.

48 POEiMS

SONNET XVI.

Sweet brook, in whose clear crystal I mine eyes
Have oft seen great in labour of their tears ;
Enamell'd bank, whose shining gravel bears
These sad characters of my miseries ;
High woods, whose mounting tops menace the
spheres ; 5

Wild citizens, Amphions of the trees,*
You gloomy groves at hottest noons which freeze,
Elysian shades, which Phoebus never clears ;
Vast solitary mountains, pleasant plains,
Embroid'red meads that ocean-ways you reach ; 10
Hills, dales, springs, all that my sad cry constrains
To take part of my plaints, and learn w^oe's speech,

Will that remorseless fair e'er pity show ?

Of grace now answer if ye ought know. No.

■ A rather far-fetched periphrasis for wood-birds !

POEMS 49

SONNET XVII.

With flaming horns the Bull now brings the year,

Melt do the horrid mountains' helms of snow,

The silver floods in pearly channels flow,

The late-bare woods green anadems do wear ;

The nightingale, forgetting winter's woe, 5

Calls up the lazy morn her notes to hear ;

Those flow'rs are spread which names of princes bear,

Some red, some azure, white and golden grow ;

Here lows a heifer, there bea-wailing * strays

A harmless lamb, not far a stag rebounds ; lo

The shepherds sing to grazing flocks sweet lays,

And all about the echoing air resounds.

Hills, dales, woods, floods, and everything doth
change,

But she in rigour, I in love am strange.

* The unusual spelling of the first syllable here was
doubtless designed to suggest the bleating noise made
by lambs.

50 POEMS

SONNET XVIII.

When Nature now had wonderfully wrought

All Auristella's parts, except her eyes,

To make those twins two lamps in beauty's skies.

She counsel of her starry senate sought.

Mars and Apollo first did her advise 5

In colour black to wrap those comets bright,

That Love him so might soberly disguise,

And unperceived, wound at every sight.

Chaste Phoebe spake for purest azure dyes,

But Jove and Venus green about the light lo

To frame thought best, as bringing most delight,

That to pin'd hearts hope might for aye arise :

Nature, all said, a paradise of green

There plac'd, to make all love which have them
seen.

POEMS 51

MADRIGAL II.

To the delightful green

Of you, fair radiant eyne,

Let each black yield beneath the starry arch.

Eyes, burnish'd heavens of love,

Sinople * lamps of Jove, §

Save that those hearts vi'hich with your flames ye parch

Two burning suns you prove.

All other eyes compar'd with you, dear lights,

Be hells, or if not hells, yet dumpish nights.

The heavens, if we their glass 10

The sea believe, be green, not perfect blue :

They all make fair what ever fair yet was,

And they be fair because they look like you.

* Sinople : green.

52

POEMS

SONNET XIX.

In vain I haunt the cold and silver springs,
To quench the fever burning in my veins ;
In vain, love's pilgrim, mountains, dales, and plains,
I overrun ; vain help long absence brings :
In vain, my friends, your counsel me constrains
To fly, and place my thoughts on other things.
Ah ! like the bird that fired hath her wings,
The more I move, the greater are my pains.
Desire, alas ! Desire, a Zeuxis new,
From Indies borrowing gold, from western skies i
Most bright cynoper,* sets before mine eyes
In every place, her hair, sweet look, and hue :
That fly, run, rest I, all doth prove but vain,
My life lies in those looks which have me slain.

* Cynoper : cinnabar ; vermilion.

POEMS

53

SONNET XX.

All other beauties, howsoe'er they shine
In hairs more bright than is the golden ore,
Or cheeks more fair than fairest eglantine,
Or hands like hers who comes the sun before ; *
Match'd with that heavenly hue, and shape divine, r,
With those dear stars which my weak thoughts adore,
Look but like shadows, or if they be more,
It is in that, that they are like to thine.
Who sees those eyes, their force and doih not prove,
Who gazeth on the dimple of that chin, lo

And tinds not Venus' son intrench'd therein,
Or hath not sense, or knows not what is love.
To see thee had Narcissus had the grace,
He sure had died with wond'ring on thy face.

* Aui-ora.

54 POEMS

SONNET XXI.

My tears may well Numidian lions tame,

And pity breed into the hardest heart

That ever Pyrrha did to maid impart,

When she them first of blushing rocks did frame.

Ah ! eyes which only serve to wail my smart,

How long will you mine inward woes proclaim ?

Let it suffice, you bear a weeping part

All night, at day though ye do not the same :

Cease, idle sighs, to spend your storms in vain.

And these calm secret shades more to molest

Contain you in the prison of my breast,

You do not ease but aggravate my pain ;

Or, if burst forth you must, that tempest move
In sight of her whom I so dearly love.

POEMS

SONNET XXII.

Nymphs, sister nymphs, which haunt this crystal

brook,
And, happy, in these floating bowers abide.
Where trembling roofs of trees from sun you hide.
Which make ideal woods in every crook ;
Wbether ye garlands for your locks provide, 5

Or pearly letters seek in sandy book,
Or count your loves when Thetis was a bride,
Lift up your golden heads and on me look.
Read in mine eyes mine agonising cares.
And what ye read recount to her again : 10

Fair nymphs, say, all these streams are but my tears.
And if she ask you how they sweet remain,

Tell, that the bitterest tears which eyes can pour,
When shed for her do cease more to be sour.

S6 POEMS

MADRIGAL III.

Like the Idalian queen,

Her hair about her eyne,

With neck and breast's ripe apples to be seen,

At first glance of the morn,

In Cyprus' gardens gathering those fair flow'rs

Which of her blood were born,

I saw, but fainting saw, my paramours.

The Graces naked danc'd about the place,

The winds and trees amaz'd

With silence on her gaz'd ;

The flow'rs did smile, like those upon her face,

And as their aspen stalks those fingers band,

That she might read my case,

A hyacinth I wish'd me in her hand.

POEMS 57

SONNET XXIIL

Then is she gone ? O fool and coward I !
O good occasion lost, ne'er to be found 1
\\Tiat fatal chains have my dull senses bound,
When best they may, that they not fortune try ?
Here is the flow'ry bed where she did lie,
With roses here she stellified the ground,
She fix'd her eyes on this yet smiling pond,
Nor time, nor courteous place, seem'd ought deny.
Too long, too long. Respect, I do embrace
Your counsel, full of threats and sharp disdain ;
Disdain in her sweet heart can have no place,
And though come there, must straight retire again
Henceforth, Respect, farewell, I oft hear told
Who lives in love can never be too bold.

58 POEMS

SONNET XXIV.

In mind's pure glass w hen I myself behold,
And vively see how my best days are spent,
What clouds of care alcove my head are roll'd,
What coming harms which I can not prevent :
My begun course I, wearied, do repent,
And would embrace what reason oft hath told ;
But scarce thus think I, when love hath controll'd
All the best reasons reason could invent.
Though sure I know my labour's end is grief.
The more I strive that I the more shall pine,
That only death can be my last relief:
Yet when I think upon that face divine,

Like one with arrow shot in laughter's place,
Malgr^ my heart, I joy in my disgrace.

POEMS 59

SONNET XXV.

Dear quirister, who from those shadows sends,
Ere that the blushing dawn dare show her light,
Such sad lamenting strains, that night attends
(Become all ear), stars stay to hear thy plight ;
If one whose grief even reach of thought transcends, s
Who ne'er (not in a dream) did taste delight,
May thee importune who like case pretends.
And seems to joy in woe, in woe's despite ;
Tell me (so may thou fortune milder tr}-,
And long, long sing) for what thou thus complains, lo
Sith, winter gone, the sun in dappled sky
Now smiles on meadows, mountains, woods, and plains?
The bird, as if my questions did her move.
With trembling wings sobb'd forth, I love, I love !

6o POEMS

SONNET XXVI.

Trust not, sweet soul, those cuiied waves of gold,
With gentle tides which on your temples flow,
Nor temples spread with flakes of virgin snov,-.
Nor snow of cheeks with Tyrian grain enroH'd ;
Trust not those shining lights which wrought my woe. 3
When first I did their burning rays behold,
Nor voice, whose sounds more strange effects do show
Than of the Thracian harper * have been told.
Look to this dying lily, fading rose,
Dark hyacinth, of late whose blushing beams lo

Made all the neighbouring herbs and grass rejoice,
And think how little is 'twixt life's extremes :
The cruel tyrant that did kill those flow'rs,
Shall once, ay me ! not spare that spring of yours.

* Orpheus.

POEMS 6i

SONNET XXVII.

That I so slenderly set forth my mind,
Writing I wot not what in ragged rhymes,
And charg'd with brass into these golden times,
When others tower so high, am left behind ;
I crave not Phcebus leave his sacred cell
To bind my brows with fresh Aonian bays ;
Let them have that who tuning sweetest lays
By Tempe sit, or Aganippe's well ;
Nor yet to Venus' tree do I aspire,
Sith she for whom I might affect that praise,
My best attempts with cruel words gainsays,
And I seek not that others me admire.

Of weeping myrrh the crown is which I crave,
With a sad cypress to adorn my grave.

.62 POEMS

SONNET XXVIII.

Sound hoarse, sad lute, true witness of my woe,
And strive no more to ease self-chosen pain
With soul-enchanting sounds ; your accents strain
Unto these tears incessantly which flow.
Shrill treble, weep ; and you, dull basses, show 5

Your master's sorrow in a deadly vein ;
Let never joyful hand upon you go.
Nor consort keep but when you do complain.
Fly Phoebus' rays, nay, hate the irksome light ;
Woods' solitary shades for thee are best, lo

Or the black horrors of the blackest night.
When all the world, save thou and I, doth rest :
Then sound, sad lute, and bear a mourning part,
Thou hell mayst move, though not a woman's heart.

POEMS 63

SONNET XXIX.

You restless seas, appease your roaring waves,
And you who raise huge mountains in that plain,
Air's trumpeters, your blust'ring storms restrain,
And listen to the plaints my grief doth cause.
Eternal lights, though adamantine laws
Of destinies to move still you ordain.
Turn hitherward your eyes, your axe-iree pau.-e,
And wonder at the torments I sustain.
Earth, if thou be not dull'd by my disgrace,
And senseless made, now ask thost powers alcove,
Why they so crost a wretch brought on thy face,
Fram'd for mishap, th' anachorite of love ?

And bid them, if they would more y-Etnas burn.
In Rhodope or Erymanthe me turn.

64 POEMS

SONNET XXX.

What cruel star into this world me brought ?
What gloomy day did dawn to give me light ?
What unkind hand to nurse me, orphan, sought,
And would not leave me in eternal night ?
What thing so dear as I hath essence * bought ?
The elements, dry, humid, heavy, light.
The smallest living things by nature wrought.
Be freed of woe, if they have small delight.
Ah ! only I, abandon'd to despair,
Nail'd to my torments, in pale Horror's shade,
Like wand'ring clouds see all my comforts fled,
And evil on evil with hours my life impair :

The heaven and fortune which were wont to turn,
Fixt in one mansion stay to cause me mourn.

* By " essence" he here intends "existence."

POEMS 6^

SONNET XXXI.

Dear eye, which deign'st on this sad monument
The sable scroll of my mishaps to view,
Though with the mourning Muses' tears besprent,
And darkly drawn, which is not feign'd, but true ;
If thou not dazzled with a heavenly hue,
And comely feature, didst not yet lament.
But happy liv'st unto thyself content,
O let not Love thee to his laws subdue.
Look on the woful shipwreck of my youth,
And let my ruins for a Phare thee serve
To shun this rock Capharean of untruth.
And serve no god who doth his churchmen starve
His kingdom is but plaints, his guerdon tears,
What he gives more are jealousies and fears.

VOL. I.

66 POEMS

SONNET XXXIL

If crost with all mishaps be my poor life,

If one short day I never spent in mirth,

If my spright with itself holds lasting strife,

If sorrow's death is but new sorrow's birth ;

If this vain world be but a sable stage

Where slave-born man plays to the scoffing stars,

If youth be toss'd with love, with weakness age,

If knowledge serve to hold our thoughts in wars ;

If time can close the hundred mouths of fame,

And make, what long since past, like that to be,

If virtue only be an idle name,

If I, when I was born, was born to die ;

Why seek I to prolong these loathsome days ?

The fairest rose in shortest time decays.

POEMS 67

SONNET XXXIII.

Let fortune triumph now, and 15 sing,
Sith I must fall beneath this load of care ;
Let her, what most I prize of ev'ry thing.
Now wicked trophies in her temple rear.
She, who high palmy empires doth not spare, {

And tramples in the dust the proudest king,
Let her vaunt how my bliss she did impair.
To what low ebb she now my flow doth bring ;
Let her count how, a new Ixion, me
She in her wheel did turn, how high nor low i(

I never stood, but more to tortur'd be :
Weep, soul, weep, plaintful soul, thy sorrows know ;
Weep, of thy tears till a black river swell,
Which may Cocytus be to this thy hell.

68 POEMS

SONNET XXXIV.

O CRUEL beauty, meekness inhumane,
That night and day contend with my desire,
And seek my hope to kill, not quench my fire,
By death, not balm, to ease my pleasant pain ;
Though ye my thoughts tread down which would
aspire, 5

And bound my bliss, do not, alas ! disdain
That I your matchless worth and grace admire,
And for their cause these torments sharp sustain.
Let great Empedocles vaunt of his death,
Found in the midst of those Sicilian flames, 10

And Phaethon, that heaven him reft of breath.
And Dsedal's son, he nam'd the Samian streams :
Their haps I envy not ; my praise shall be,
The fairest she that liv'd gave death to me.

POEMS 69

SONNET XXXV.

The Hyperborean hills, Ceraunus' snow,
Or Arimaspus (cruel !) first thee bred ;
The Caspian tigers with their milk thee fed,
And Fauns did human blood on thee bestow ;
Fierce Orithyia's lover * in thy bed
Thee lull'd asleep, where he enrag'd doth blow ;
Thou didst not drink the floods which here do flow.
But tears, or those by icy Tanais' head.
Sith thou disdains my love, neglects my grief,
Laughs at my groans, and still affects my death.
Of thee, nor heaven, I'll seek no more relief,
Nor longer entertain this loathsome breath,
But yield unto my star, that thou mayst prove
WTiat loss thou hadst in losing such a love.

* Boreas.

70 POEMS

SONG II.

Phcebus, arise,

And paint the sable skies

With azure, white, and red ;

Rouse Memnon's mother from her Tithon's bed,

That she thy career may with roses spread ;

The nightingales thy coming each where sing ;

Make an eternal spring,

Give life to this dark world which lieth dead ;

Spread forth thy golden hair

In larger locks than thou wast wont before,

And, emperor-like, decore

With diadem of pearl thy temples fair :

Chase hence the ugly night,

Which serves hut to make dear thy glorious light.

This is that happy morn,

That day, long-wished day,

Of all my life so dark

(If cruel stars have not my ruin sworn,

And fates not hope betray).

Which, only white, deserves

A diamond for ever should it mark :

This is the morn should bring unto this grove

My love, to hear and recompense my love.

POEMS 71

Fair king, who all preserves,

But show thy blushing beams, 25

And thou two sweeter eyes

Shalt see, than those which by Peneus' streams

Did once thy heart surprise ;

Nay, suns, which shine as clear

As thou when two thou did to Rome appear. 30

Now, Flora, deck thyself in fairest guise ;

If that ye, winds, would hear

A voice surpassing far Amphion's lyre,

Your stormy chiding stay ;

Let zephyr only breathe, 3S

And with her tresses play,

Kissing sometimes those purple ports of death.

The winds all silent are,

And Phcebus in his chair,

Ensaffroning sea and air, 4o

Makes vanish every star :

Night like a drunkard reels

Beyond the hills to shun his flaming wheels ;

The fields with flow'rs are deck'd in every hue,

The clouds bespangle with bright gold their blue : 43

Here is the pleasant place,

And ev'ry thing, save her, who all should grace.

72 POEMS

SONNET XXXVI.

Who hath not seen into her saffron bed
The morning's goddess mildly her repose,
Or her,* of whose pure blood first sprang the rose,
Lull'd in a slumber by a myrtle shade ;
Who hath not seen that sleeping white and red
Makes Phoebe look so pale, which she did close
In that Ionian hill, to ease her woes,
Which only lives by nectar kisses fed ;
Come but and see my lady sweetly sleep.
The sighing rubies of those heavenly lips,
The Cupids which breast's golden apples keep.
Those eyes which shine in midst of their eclipse.
And he them all shall see, perhaps, and prove
She waking but persuades, now forceth love.

* Venus.

POEMS 73

SONNET XXXVII.

Of Cytherea's birds, that milk-white pair,

On yonder leafy myrtle-tree which groan,

And waken, with their kisses in the air,

Enamour'd zephyrs murmuring one by one.

If thou but sense hadst like Pygmalion's stone, 5

Or hadst not seen Medusa's snaky hair.

Love's lessons thou might'st learn ; and learn, sweet

fair,
To summer's heat ere that thy spring be grown.
And if those kissing lovers seem but cold.
Look how that elm this ivy doth embrace, lo

And binds, and clasps with many a wanton fold.
And courting sleep o'ershadows all the place ;
Nay, seems to say, dear tree, we shall not part.
In sign whereof, lo ! in each leaf a heart.

74 POEMS

SONNET XXXVIII.

The sun is fair when he with crimson crown,
And flaming rubies, leaves his eastern bed ;
Fair is Thaumantias in her crystal gown,
When clouds engemm'd hang azure, green, and red :
To western worlds when wearied day goes down, 5
And from Heaven's windows each star shows her head,
Earth's silent daughter, night, is fair, though brown ;
Fair is the moon, though in love's livery clad ;
Fair Chloris is when she doth paint April,
Fair are the meads, the woods, the floods are fair ; lo
Fair looketh Ceres with her yellow hair.
And apples' queen when rose-cheek'd she doth smile.
That heaven, and earth, and seas are fair is true,
Yet true that all not please so much as you.

POEMS 75

MADRIGAL IV.

Whenas she smiles I find

More light before mine eyes,

Than * when the sun from Ind

Brings to our world a flow'ry Paradise :

But when she gently weeps, 5

And pours forth pearly showers

On cheeks' fair blushing flowers,

A sweet melancholy my senses keeps.

Both feed so my disease,

So much both do me please, 10

That oft I doubt, which more my heart doth burn,

Like love to see her smile, or pity mourn.

* " Than " is the reading of the edition of 1656 ; that
of 1616 has " Nor."

76 POEMS

SONNET XXXIX.

Slide soft, fair Forth, and make a crystal plain,
Cut your white locks, and on your foamy face
Let not a wrinkle be, when you embrace
The boat that earth's perfections doth contain.
Winds, wonder, and through wond'ring hold your
peace ; 5

Or if that ye your hearts cannot restrain
From sending sighs, mov'd by a lover's case,
Sigh, and in her fair hair yourselves enchain ;
Or take these sighs which absence makes arise
From mine oppressed breast, and wave the sails, 10
Or some sweet breath new brought from Paradise :
Floods seem to smile, love o'er the winds prevails,
And yet huge waves arise ; the cause is this,
The ocean strives with Forth the boat to kiss.

POEMS 77-

SONNET XL.

Ah ! who can see those fruits of Paradise,
Celestial cherries, which so sweetly swell.
That sweetness' self confined there seems to dwell,
J^.nd all those sweetest parts about despise ?
Ah ! who can see and feel no flame surprise
His hardened heart ? for me, alas ! too well
I know their force, and how they do excel :
Now burn I through desire, now do I freeze ;
I die, dear life, unless to me be given
As many kisses as the spring hath flow'rs,
Or as the silver drops of Iris' show'rs.
Or as the stars in all-embracing heaven ;

And if, displeas'd, ye of the match complain,
Ye shall have leave to take them back again.

78 POEMS

SONNET XLI.

Is 't not enough, ay me ! me thus to see
Like some heaven-banish'd ghost still wailing go,
A shadow which your rays do only show ?
To vex me more, unless ye bid me die,
"What could ye worse allot unto your foe ?
But die will I, so ye will not deny
That grace to me which mortal foes even try,
To choose what sort of death should end my woe.
One time I found whenas ye did me kiss,
Ye gave my panting soul so sweet a touch,
That half I swoon'd in midst of all my bliss ;
I do but crave my death's wound may be such ;
For though by grief I die not and annoy,
Is't not enough to die through too much joy ?

POEMS 79

MADRIGAL V.

Sweet rose, whence is this hue

Which doth all hues excel ?

Whence this most fragrant smell,

And whence this form and gracing grace in you ?

In flow'ry Psestum's field perhaps ye grew, s

Or Hybla's hills you bred,

Or odoriferous Enna's plains you fed,

Or Tmolus, or where boar young Adon slew ;

Or hath the queen of love you dy'd of new

In that dear blood, which makes you look so red? lo
No, none of those, but cause more high you blest,
My lady's breast you bare, and lips you kiss'd.

So POEMS

SONNET XLIL

She whose fair flow'rs no autumn makes decay,
Whose hue celestial, earthly hues doth stain,
Into a pleasant odoriferous plain
Did walk alone, to brave the pride of May ;
And whilst through checker'd lists she made her way, 5
\Miich smil'd about her sight to entertain,
Lo, unawares, where Love did hid remain,
She spied, and sought to make of him her prey j
For which, of golden locks a fairest hair.
To bind the boy, she took ; but he, afraid 10

At her approach, sprang swiftly in the air,
And mounting far from reach, look'd back and said.
Why shouldst thou, sweet, me seek in chains to bind,
Sith in thine eyes I daily am confin'd ?

POEMS 8l

MADRIGAL VI.

On this cold world of ours,

Flow'r of the seasons, season of the flow'rs,

Son of the sun, sweet Spring,

Such hot and burning days why dost thou bring ?

Is this for that those high eternal pow'rs

Flash down that fire this All environing ?

Or that now Phoebus keeps his sister's sphere ?

Or doth some Phaethon

Inflame the sea and air ?

Or rather is it, usher of the year,

For that, last day, amongst thy flow'rs alone,

Unmask'd thou saw'st my fair ?

And whilst thou on her gaz'd she did thee burn,
And in thy brother Summer doth thee turn?

VOL. I.

82 POEMS

SONNET XLIII.

Dear wood, and you, sweet solitary place,
Where from the vulgar I estranged live,
Contented more with what your shades me give,
Than if I had what Thetis doth embrace ;
What snaky eye, grown jealous of my peace,
Now from your silent horrors would m.e drive,
When sun, progressing in his glorious race
Beyond the Twins, doth near our pole arrive ?
What sweet delight a quiet life affords.
And what it is to be of bondage free.
Far from the madding worldling's hoarse discords,
Sweet flow'ry place, I first did learn of thee :
Ah ! if I were mine own, your dear resorts
I would not change with princes' stately courts.

POEMS 83

SEXTAIN II.

SiTH gone is my delight and only pleasure,

The last of all my hopes, the cheerful sun

That clear'd my life's dark day, nature's sweet treasure,

More dear to me than all beneath the moon,

What resteth now, but that upon this mountain 5

I weep, till Heaven transform me in a fountain ?

Fresh, fair, delicious, crystal, pearly fountain,
On whose smooth face to look she oft took pleasure.
Tell me (so may thy streams long cheer this mountain,
So serpent ne'er thee stain, nor scorch thee sun, 10
So may with gentle beams thee kiss the moon).
Dost thou not mourn to want so fair a treasure ?

While she her glass'd in thee, rich Tagus' treasure

Thou envy needed not, nor yet the fountain

In which that hunter * saw the naked moon ; 15

Absence hath robb'd thee of thy wealth and pleasure,

And I remain like marigold of sun

Depriv'd, that dies by shadow of some mountain.

* Actason.

84 POEMS

Nymphs of the forests, nymphs who on this mountain
Are wont to dance, showing your beauty's treasure 20
To goat-feet Sylvans, and the wond'ring sun,
Whenas you gather flowers about this fountain,
Bid her farewell who placed here her pleasure,
And sing her praises to the stars and moon.

Among the lesser lights as is the moon, 23

Blushing through scarf of clouds on Latmos' mountain.
Or when her silver locks she looks for pleasure
In Thetis' streams, proud of so gay a treasure.
Such was my fair when she sat by this fountain
With other nymphs, to shun the amorous sun. 30

As is our earth in absence of the sun,

Or when of sun deprived is the moon ;

As is without a verdant shade a fountain,

Or wanting grass, a mead, a vale, a mountain ;

Such is my state, bereft of my dear treasure, 35

To know whose only worth was all my pleasure.

Ne'er think of pleasure, heart ; eyes, shun the sun,
Tears be your treasure, which the wand'ring moon
Shall see you shed by mountain, vale, and fountain.

POEMS 85

SONNET XLIV.

Thou window, once which served for a sphere
To that dear planet of my heart, whose light
Made often blush the glorious queen of night,
^\^lile she in thee more beauteous did appear,
\\Tiat mourning weeds, alas ! now dost thou wear ! 5
How loathsome to mine eyes is thy sad sight !
How poorly look'st thou, with what heavy cheer,
Since that sun set, which made thee shine so bright !
Unhappy now thee close, for as of late
To wond'ring eyes thou wast a paradise, . lo

Bereft of her who made thee fortunate,
A gulf thou art, whence clouds of sighs arise ;
But unto none so noisome as to me.
Who hourly see my murder'd joys in thee.

86 POEMS

SONNET XLV.

Are these the flow'ry banks, is this the mead,
Where she was wont to pass the pleasant hours ?
Did here her eyes exhale mine eyes' salt show'rs,
^^^len on her lap I laid my weary head ?
Is this the goodly elm did us o'erspread, 5

Whose tender rind, cut out in curious flow'rs
By that white hand, contains those flames of ours ?
Is this the rustling spring us music made ?
Deflourish'd mead, where is your heavenly hue ?
Bank, where that arras did you late adorn ? 10

How look ye, elm, all withered and forlorn ?
Only, sweet spring, nought altered seems in you ;
But while here chang'd each other thing appears.
To sour your streams take of mine eyes these tears.

POEMS 87

SONNET XLVI.

Alexis, here she stay'd ; among these pines,
Sweet hermitress, she did alone repair ;
Here did she spread the treasure of her hair,
More rich than that brought from the Colchian mines.
She set her by these musked eglantines, 5

The happy place the print seems yet to bear ;
Her voice did sweeten here thy sugar' d lines,
To which winds, trees, beasts, birds, did lend their ear.
Me here she first perceiv'd, and here a mom
Of bright carnations did o'erspread her face ; 10

Here did she sigh, here first my hopes were born,
And I first got a pledge of promis'd grace :
But, ah ! what serv'd it to be happy so,
Sith passed pleasures double but new woe ?

88 POEMS

SONNET XLVII.

O NIGHT, clear night, O dark and gloomy day !

O woful waking ! O soul-pleasing sleep !

O sweet conceits which in my brains did creep,

Yet sour conceits which went so soon away !

A sleep I had more than poor words can say.

For, clos'd in arms, methought, I did thee keep ;

A sorry wretch plung'd in misfortunes deep

Am I not, wak'd, when light doth lies bewray ?

O that that night had ever still been black !

O that that day had never yet begun !

And you, mine eyes, would ye no time saw sun,

To have your sun in such a zodiac !

Lo ! what is good of life is but a dream,
When sorrow is a never-ebbing stream.

POEMS 89

SONNET XLVIIL

Hair, precious hair which Midas' hand did strain,
Part of the wreath of gold that crowns those brows
Which winter's whitest white in whiteness stain,
And lily, by Eridan's bank that grows ;
Hair, fatal present, which first caus'd my woes, 5

WTien loose ye hang like Danae's golden rain,
Sweet nets, which sweetly do all hearts enchain.
Strings, deadly strings, with which Love bends his

bows,
How are ye hither come ? tell me, O hair,
Dear armelet, for what thus were ye given ? 10

I know a badge of bondage I you wear.
Yet hair, for you, O that I were a heaven !
Like Berenice's lock that ye might shine,
But brighter far, about this arm of mine.

90 POEMS

MADRIGAL VII.

Unhappy light,

Do not approach to bring the woful day.

When I must bid for aye

Farewell to her, and live in endless plight.

Fair moon, with gentle beams 5

The sight who never mars,

Long clear heaven's sable vault ; and you, bright stars.

Your golden locks long glass in earth's pure streams ;

Let Phoebus never rise

To dim your watchful eyes : lo

Prolong, alas ! prolong my short delight,
And, if ye can, make an eternal night.

POEMS 91

SONNET XLIX.

With grief in heart, and tears in swooning eyes,
When I to her had giv'n a sad farewell,
Close sealed with a kiss, and dew which fell
On my else-moisten'd face from beauty's skies,
So strange amazement did my mind surprise,
That at each pace I fainting turn'd again,
Like one whom a torpedo stupefies.
Not feeling honour's bit, nor reason's rein.
But when fierce stars to part me did constrain,
With back-cast looks I envied both and bless'd
The happy walls and place did her contain,
Till that sight's shafts their flying object miss'd.
So \\'ailing parted Ganymede the fair,
\Vhen eagles' talons bare him through the air.

92 POEMS

MADRIGAL VIII.

I FEAR not henceforth death,

Sith after this departure yet I breathe ;

Let rocks, and seas, and wind.

Their highest treasons show ;

Let sky and earth combin'd

Strive, if they can, to end my life and woe ;

Sith grief can not, me nothing can o'erthrow
Or if that aught can cause my fatal lot,
It will be when I hear I am forgot.

POEMS 93

SONNET L.

How many times night's silent queen her face
Hath hid, how oft with stars in silver mask
In Heaven's great hall she hath begun her task,
And cheer'd the waking eye in lower place !
How oft the sun hath made by Heaven's swift race 5
The happy lover to forsake the breast
Of his dear lady, wishing in the west
His golden coach to run had larger space !
I ever count, and number, since, alas !
I bade farewell to my heart's dearest guest ; lo

The miles I compass, and in mind I chase
The floods and mountains hold me from my rest :
But, woe is me ! long count and count may I,
Ere I see her whose absence makes me die.

94 POEMS

SONNET LI.

So grievous is my pain, so painful life,
That oft I find me in the arms of Death ;
But, breath half-gone, that tyrant called Death
Who others kills, restoreth me to life :
For while I think how woe shall end with life, 5

And that I quiet peace shall joy by death,
That thought even doth o'erpower the pains of death,
And call me home again to loathed life.
Thus doth mine evil transcend both life and death.
While no death is so bad as is my life, 10

Nor no life such which doth not end by death.
And Protean changes turn my death and life,
O happy those who in their birth find death,
Sith but to languish Heaven affordeth life !

POEMS

95

SONNET LIL

Fame, who with golden pens abroad dost range
Where Phoebus leaves the night, and brings the day ;
Fame, in one place who, restless, dost not stay
Till thou hast flown from Atlas unto Gange ;
Fame, enemy to time that still doth change, 5

And in his changing course would make decay
What here below he findeth in his way,
Even making virtue to herself look strange ;
Daughter of heaven, now all thy trumpets sound.
Raise up thy head unto the highest sky, 10

With wonder blaze the gifts in her are found ;
And when she from this mortal globe shall fly.
In thy wide mouth keep long, long keep her name
So thou by her, she by thee live shall, Fame.

96 POEMS

MADRIGAL IX.

The ivory, coral, gold,

Of breast, of lips, of hair,

So lively Sleep doth show to inward sight,

That wake I think I hold

No shadow, but my fair :

Myself so to deceive,

With long-shut eyes I shun the irksome light.

Such pleasure thus I have,

Delighting in false gleams.

If Death Sleep's brother be,
And souls reliev'd of sense have so sweet dreams.
That I would wish me thus to dream and die.

POEMS 97

SONNET LIII.

I CURSE the night, yet do from day me hide,
The Pandionian birds * I tire with moans,
The echoes even are wearied with my groans,
Since absence did me from my bliss divide.
Each dream, each toy my reason doth affright ;
And when remembrance reads the curious scroll
Of pass'd contentments caused by her sight,
Then bitter anguish doth invade my soul.
\\T2ile thus I live eclipsed of her light,
O me ! what better am I than the mole,
Or those whose zenith is the only pole,
Wliose hemisphere is hid with so long night ?
Save that in earth he rests, they hope for sun,
I pine, and find mine endless night begun,

* The Pandionian birds : nightingales.

98 POEMS

SONNET LIV.

Of death some tell, some of the cruel pain
Which that bad craftsman in his work did try,
When (a new monster) flames once did constrain
A human corpse to yield a brutish cry.
Some tell of those in burning beds who lie,
For that they durst in the Phlegraean plain
The mighty rulers of the sky defy,
And siege those cr}^stal towers which all contain.
Another counts of Phlegethon's hot floods
The souls which drink, Ixion's endless smart,
And his to whom a vulture eats the heart ;
One tells of spectres in enchanted woods.

Of all those pains he who the worst would prove,
Let him be absent, and but pine in love.

POEMS 99

MADRIGAL X.

Tritons, which bounding dive
Through Neptune's liquid plain,
Whenas ye shall arrive
With tilting tides where silver Ora plays,.
And to your king his watery tribute pays,

Tell how I dying live,

And burn in midst of all the coldest main.

xoo POEMS

SONNET LV.

Place me where angry Titan burns the Moor,
And thirsty Afric fiery monsters brings,
Or where the new-born phcenix spreads her wings,
And troops of wond'ring birds her flight adore ;
Place me by Gange, or Ind's empamper'd shore, 5
Where smiling heavens on earth cause double springs ;
Place me where Neptune's quire of syrens sings,
Or where, made hoarse through cold, he leaves to

roar ;
Me place where Fortune doth her darlings crown,
A wonder or a spark in Envy's eye, lo

Or let outrageous fates upon me frown,
And pity wailing see disaster'd me ;

Affection's print my mind so deep doth prove,

I may forget myself, but not my love.

POEMS

THE SECOND PART

SONNET I.

Of mortal glory, O soon darken'd ray !
O posting joys of man, more swift than wind!
O fond desires, which wing'd with fancies stray !
O trait'rous hopes, which do our judgments blind !
Lo ! in a flash that light is gone away, 3

Which dazzle did each eye, delight each mind.
And with that sun, from whence it came, combin'd,
Now makes more radiant heaven's eternal day.
Let Beauty now be blubber'd cheeks with tears,*
Let widow'd Music only roar and plain ; 10

Poor Virtue, get thee wings, and mount the spheres.
And let thine only name on earth remain.

Death hath thy temple raz'd, Love's empire foil'd.
The world of honour, worth, and sweetness spoil'd.

* The e
with tears.

102 POEMS

SONNET II.

Those eyes, those sparkling sapphires of delight,
Which thousand thousand hearts did set on fire,
Which made that eye of heaven that brings the light,
Oft jealous, stay amaz'd them to admire ;
That living snow, those crimson roses bright, 5

Those pearls, those rubies, which did breed desire.
Those locks of gold, that purple fair of Tyre,
Are wrapt, ay me ! up in eternal night.
What hast thou more to vaunt of, wretched world,
Sith she, who cursed thee made blest, is gone ? lo
Thine ever-burning lamps, rounds ever whirl'd.
Can unto thee not model such a one :

For if they would such beauty bring on earth.
They should be forc'd again to make her breath,*

* Breath, for "breathe."

POEMS 103

SONNET III.

O FATE 3 conspir'd to pour your worst on me,
O rigorous rigour, which doth all confound !
With cruel hands ye have cut down the tree,
And fruit and flower dispersed on the ground.
A little space of earth my love doth bound ;
That beauty which did raise it to the sky,
Turn'd in neglected dust, now low doth lie,
Deaf to my plaints, and senseless of my wound.
Ah ! did I live for this ? Ah ! did I love ?
For this and was it she did so excel ?
That ere she well life's sweet-sour joys did prove,
She should, too dear a guest, with horror dwell ?
Weak influence of Heaven ! what fair ye frame,
Falls in the prime, and passeth like a dream.

104 POEMS

SONNET IV.

O WOFUL life ! Life? No, but living death,
Frail boat of crystal in a rocky sea,
A sport expos'd to Fortune's stormy breath,
Which kept with pain, with terror doth decay :
The false delights, true woes thou dost bequeath.
Mine all-appalled mind do so affray.
That I those envy who are laid in earth,
And pity them that run thy dreadful way.
When did mine eyes behold one cheerful morn ?
When had my tossed soul one night of rest ?
WTien did not hateful stars my projects scorn?
O ! now I find for mortals what is best ;

Even, sith our voyage shameful is, and short,
Soon to strike sail, and perish in the port.

POEMS IOC,

SONNET V.

Mine eyes, dissolve your globes in briny streams,-

And with a cloud of sorrow dim your sight ;

The sun's bright sun is set, of late whose beams

Gave lustre to your day, day to your night.

My voice, now deafen earth with anachemes, s-

Roar forth a challenge in the world's despite,

Tell that disguised grief is her delight,

That life a slumber is of fearful dreams.

And, woful mind, abhor to think of joy ;

My senses all now comfortless you hide, lo

Accept no object but of black annoy,

Tears, plaints, sighs, mourning weeds, graves gaping
wide.
I have nought left to wish, my hopes are dead.
And all with her beneath a marble laid.

lo6 POEMS

SONNET VI.

Sweet soul, which in the April of thy years

So to enrich the heaven mad'st poor this round.

And now with golden rays of glory crown'd,

INIost blest abid'st above the sphere of spheres ;

If heavenly laws, alas ! have not thee bound 5

From looking to this globe that all upbears.

If ruth and pity there above be found,

O deign to lend a look unto those tears.

Do not disdain, dear ghost, this sacrifice.

And though I raise not pillars to thy praise, lo

Mine offerings take ; let this for me suffice,

My heart a living pyramid I raise ;

And whilst kings' tombs with laurels flourish green,
Thine shall with myrtles and these flow'rs be seen.

POEMS T07

MADRIGAL I

This life, which seems so fair,

Is like a bubble blown up in the air

By sporting children's breath,

Who chase it ever^^where,

And strive who can most motion it bequeath :

And though it sometime seem of its own might.

Like to an eye of gold, to be fix'd there,

And firm to hover in that empty height,

That only is because it is so light.

But in that pomp it doth not long appear ;
For even when most admir'd, it in a thought.
As swell'd from nothing, doth dissolve in nought.

io8 POEMS

SONNET VII.

•O ! IT is not to me, bright lamp of day,
That in the east thou show'st thy rosy face ;
O ! it is not to me thou leav'st that sea,
And in these azure lists beginn'st thy race.
Thou shin'st not to the dead in any place ;
And I, dead, from this world am gone away,
Or if I seem, a shadow, yet to stay,
It is a while but to bemoan my case.
My mirth is lost, my comforts are dismay'd,
And unto sad mishaps their place do yield ;
My knowledge doth resemble a bloody field,
Where I my hopes and helps see prostrate laid.
So painful is life's course which I have run.
That I do wish it never had begun.

POEMS

109

SONG I.

Sad Damon being come

To that for ever lamentable tomb,

\Miich those eternal powers that all control,

Unto his living soul

A melancholy prison had prescriv'd ; 5

Of hue, of heat, of motion quite depriv'd.

In arms weak, trembling, cold,

A marble, he the marble did infold ;

And having made it warm with many a show'r,

\Miich dimmed eyes did pour, 10

When grief had given him leave, and sighs them

stay'd.
Thus with a sad alas at last he said :

Who would have thought to me
The place where thou didst lie could grievous be ?
And that, dear body, long thee having sought, 15

O me ! who would have thought
Thee once to find it should my soul confound,
And give my heart than death a deeper wound ?
Thou didst disdain my tears,

But grieve not that this ruthful stone them bears ; 20
Mine eyes serve only now for thee to weep,
And let their course them keep ;

no POEMS

Although thou never wouldst them comfort show,
Do not repine, they have part of thy woe.

Ah, wretch ! too late I find
How virtue's glorious titles prove but wind ;
For if she any could release from death,
Thou yet enjoy'd hadst breath ;
For if she ere appear'd to mortal ejTie,
It was in thy fair shape that she was seen.
But, O ! if I was made
For thee, with thee why too am I not dead ?
Why do outrageous fates, which dimm'd thy sight,
Let me see hateful light ?
They without me made death thee to surprise,
Tyrants, perhaps, that they might kill me twice.

O grief ! and could one day
Have force such excellence to take away ?
Could a swift-flying moment, ah ! deface
Those matchless gifts, that grace
Which art and nature had in thee combin'd.
To make thy body paragon thy mind ?
Have all passed like a cloud,
And doth eternal silence now them shroud ?
Is what so much admir'd was nought but dust.
Of which a stone hath trust ?
O change ! O cruel change ! thou to our sight
Shows destines' rigour equal doth their might.

When thou from earth didst pass,
Sweet nymph, perfection's mirror broken was.
And this of late so glorious world of ours,
Like meadow without flow'rs,
Or ring of a rich gem made blind, appear'd,

POEMS m

Or night, by star nor Cynthia neither clear'd

Love when he saw thee die, 53

Entomb'd him in the lid of either eye,

And left his torch within thy sacred um^

There for a lamp to burn :

Worth, honour, pleasure, with thy life expir'd,

Death since, grown sweet, begins to be desir'd. eo

Whilst thou to us wast given.
The earth her Venus had as well as heaven,
Nay, and her sun, which burnt as many hearts,.
As he doth eastern parts ;

Bright sun, which, forc'd to leave these hemispheres, 63
Benighted set into a sea of tears.
Ah, Death, who shall thee fly,
Sith the most worthy be o'erthrown by thee ?
Thou spar'st the ravens, and nightingales dost kill,
And triumphs at thy will ; ra

But give thou canst not such another blow,
Because like her earth can none other show.

O bitter sweets of love !
How better is 't at all you not to prove.
Than when we do your pleasure most possess, 75

To find them then made less !
O ! that the cause which doth consume our joy.
Remembrance of it too, would too destroy !
What doth this life bestow

But flowers on thorns which grow, 89

Which though they sometime blandishing delight,
Yet afterwards us smite ?
And if the rising sun them fair doth see.
That planet, setting, too beholds them die.

112 POEMS

This world is made a hell, 85

Depriv'd of all that in it did excel.

O Pan, Pan, winter is fallen in our May,

Turn'd is in night our day ;

Forsake thy pipe, a sceptre take to thee,

Thy locks dis-garland, thou black Jove shalt be. 90

The flocks do leave the meads,

And, loathing three-leav'd grass, hold up their

heads ;
The streams not glide now with a gentle roar.
Nor birds sing as before ;

Hills stand with clouds, like mourners, veil'd in black, 95
And owls on cabin roofs foretell our wrack.

That zephyr every year
So soon was heard to sigh in forests here.
It was for her : that wrapt in gowns of green,
Meads were so early seen, 100

That in the saddest months oft sung the merles,
It was for her ; for her trees dropt forth pearls.
That proud and stately courts
Did envy those our shades, and calm resorts.
It was for her ; and she is gone, O woe ! los

Woods cut again do grow,
Bud doth the rose and daisy, winter done.
But we, once dead, no more do see the sun.

Whose name shall now make ring
The echoes ? of whom shall the nymphets sing ? 110
Whose heavenly voice, whose soul-invading strains,
Shall fill with joy the plains?
What hair, what eyes, can make the morn in east
Weep, that a fairer riseth in the west ?

POEMS 113

Fair sun, post still away, 115

No music here is found thy course to stay

Sweet Hybla swarms, with wormwood fill your bowers,

Gone is the flower of flowers ;

Blush no more, rose, nor, lily, pale remain.

Dead is that beauty which yours late did stain. 120

Ay me ! to wail my plight
Why have not I as many eyes as night,
Or as that shepherd which Jove's love did keep,
That I still still may weep ?

But though I had, my tears unto my cross 125

Were not yet equal, nor grief to my loss :
Yet of your briny showers,
Which I here pour, may spring as many flowers
As came of those which fell from Helen's eyes ;
And when ye do arise, iso

May every leaf in sable letters bear
The doleful cause for which ye spring up here.

VOL. r.

114 POEMS

MADRIGAL II.

Dear night, the ease of care,

Untroubled seat of peace,

Time's eldest child, which oft the blind do see.

On this our hemisphere

What makes thee now so sadly dark to be ?

Com'st thou in funeral pomp her grave to grace ?

Or do those stars which should thy horror clear,

In Jove's high hall advise

In what part of the skies,

With them, or Cynthia, she shall appear ?

Or, ah, alas ! because those matchless eyes
Which shone so fair, below thou dost not find,
Striv'st thou to make all other eyes look blind ?

POEMS 115

SONNET VIII,

My lute, be as thou wast when thou didst grow
With thy green mother in some shady grove,
When immelodious winds but made thee move,
And birds on thee their ramage * did bestow.
Sith that dear voice which did thy sounds approve,
WTiich us'd in such harmonious strains to flow,
Is reft from earth to tune those spheres above,
What art thou but a harbinger of woe ?
Thy pleasing notes be pleasing notes no more,
But orphan wailings to the fainting ear.
Each stop a sigh, each sound draws forth a tear :
Be therefore silent as in woods before,
Or if that any hand to touch thee deign,
Like widow'd turtle, still her loss complain.

* Warbling : Fr. ramage.

ii6 FOEMS

SONNET IX,

Sweet Spring, thou turn'st with all thy goodly train,
Thy head with flames, thy mantle bright with flow'rs :
The zephyrs curl the green locks of the plain,
The clouds for joy in pearls weep down their show'rs.
Thou turn'st, sweet youth, but, ah ! my pleasant hours 5
And happy days with thee come not again ;
The sad memorials only of my pain
Do with thee turn, which turn my sweets in sours.
Thou art the same which still thou wast before,
Delicious, wanton, amiable, fair ; lo

But she, whose breath embalm'd thy wholesome air.
Is gone ; nor gold, nor gems, her can restore.
Neglected virtue, seasons go and come,
While thine forgot lie closed in a tomb.

POEMS 117

SONNET X.

What doth it serve to see Sun's burning face.
And skies enamell'd with both the Indies' gold,
Or moon at night in jetty chariot roll'd.
And all the glory of that starry place ?
\\Tiat doth it serve earth's beauty to behold, 5

The mountains' pride, the meadows' flow'ry grace,
The stately comeliness of forests old,
The sport of floods, which would themselves embrace ?
What doth it serve to hear the Sylvans' songs,
The wanton merle, the nightingale's sad strains, 10
Which in dark shades seem to deplore my wrongs ?
For what doth serve all that this world contains,
Sith she for whom those once to me were dear.
No part of them can have now with me here ?

ii8 POEMS

MADRIGAL III.

The beauty, and the life

Of life's and beauty's fairest paragon,

O tears ! O grief ! hung at a feeble thread,

To which pale Atropos had set her knife ;

The soul with many a groan 5

Had left each outward part,

And now did take his last leave of the heart ;

Nought else did want, save death, even to be dead ;

When the afflicted band about her bed,

Seeing so fair him come in lips, cheeks, eyes, lo
Cried, ah ! and can death enter paradise ?

POEMS 119

SONNET XI.

Ah ! napkin, ominous present of my dear,
Gift miserable, which doth now remain
The only guerdon of my helpless pain,
When I thee got thou show'd my state too clear :
I never since have ceased to complain, 5

Since I the badge of grief did ever wear,
Joy on my face durst never since appear,
Care was the food which did me entertain.
Now, since made mine, dear napkin, do not grieve
That I this tribute pay thee from mine eyne, 10

And that, these posting hours I am to live,
I launder thy fair figures in this brine :
No, I must even beg of thee the grace,
That thou wouldst deign in grave to shroud my
face.

120 POEMS

MADRIGAL IV.

Poor turtle ! thou bemoans

The loss of thy dear love,

And I for mine send forth these smoking groans :

Unhappy widow'd dove !

"While all about do sing,

I at the root, thou on the branch above,

Even weary with our moans the gaudy spring.
Yet these our plaints we do not spend in vain,
Sith sighing zephyrs answer us again.

POEMS 12 E

SONNET XII.

As, in a dusky and tempestuous night,

A star is wont to spread her locks of gold,

And while her pleasant rays abroad are roll'd,

Some spiteful cloud doth rob us of her sight ;

Fair soul, in this black age so shin'd thou bright, 5

And made all eyes with wonder thee behold.

Till ugly Death, depriving us of light,

In his grim misty arms thee did enfold.

Who more shall vaunt true beauty here to see ?

^^^lat hope doth more in any heart remain, lo

That such perfections shall his reason rein,

If beauty, with thee born, too died with thee?

World, plain no more of Love, nor count his harms ;,
With his pale trophies Death hath hung, his arms..

122 POEMS

SONNET XIII.

SiTH it hath pleas'd that First and only Fair
To take that beauty to himself again,
Which in this world of sense not to remain,
But to amaze, was sent, and home repair ;
The love which to that beauty I did bear
(Made pure of mortal spots which did it stain,
And endless, which even death cannot impair),
I place on Him who will it not disdain.
No shining eyes, no locks of curling gold.
No blushing roses on a virgin face,
No outward show, no, nor no inward grace.
Shall force hereafter have my thoughts to hold :
Love here on earth huge storms of care do toss,
JBut, plac'd above, exempted is from loss.

POEMS 123

MADRIGAL V.

My thoughts hold mortal strife ;

I do detest my life,

And with lamenting cries,

Peace to my soul to bring,

Oft call that prince which here doth monarchise ;

But he, grim-grinning king,

Who caitives scorns, and doth the blest surprise,
Late having deckt with beauty's rose his tomb,
Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come.

124 POEMS

SONG II.

It autumn was, and on our hemisphere
Fair Erycine * began bright to appear ;
Night westward did her gemmy world decline,
And hide her lights, that greater light might

shine ;
The crested bird had given alarum twice 5

To lazy mortals, to unlock their eyes ;
The owl had left to plain, and from each thorn
The wing'd musicians did salute the morn,
Who, while she glass'd her locks in Ganges' streams,
Set open wide the crystal port of dreams ; ]0

When I, whose eyes no drowsy night could close.
In sleep's soft arms did quietly repose.
And, for that heavens to die me did deny.
Death's image kissed, and as dead did lie.
I lay as dead, but scarce charm'd were my cares, is
And slaked scarce my sighs, scarce dried my tears,
Sleep scarce the ugly figures of the day
Had with his sable pencil put away,
And left me in a still and calmy mood,
When by my bed methought a virgin stood, 20

* Venus.

POEMS 125

A virgin in the blooming of her prime,

If such rare beauty measur'd be by time.

Her head a garland wore of opals bright,

About her flow'd a gown as pure as light,

Dear amber locks gave umbrage to her face, 25

WTiere modesty high majesty did grace ;

Her eyes such beams sent forth, that but with

pain
Here weaker sights their sparkling could sustain.
No deity feign'd which haunts the silent woods
Is like to her, nor syren of the floods : 30

Such is the golden planet of the year,
When blushing in the east he doth appear.
Her grace did beauty, voice yet grace did pass,
Which thus through pearls and rubies broken was.

How long wilt thou, said she, estrang'd from joy, 35
Paint shadows to thyself of false annoy ?
How long thy mind with horrid shapes affright,
And in imaginary evils delight ;
Esteem that loss which, well when view'd, is gain,
Or if a loss, yet not a loss to plain ? 40

O leave thy tired soul more to molest,
And think that woe when shortest then is best.
If she for whom thou deaf 'nest thus the sky
Be dead, what then ? was she not born to die ?
Was she not mortal born ? If thou dost grieve 45
That times should be in which she should not live.
Ere e'er she was weep that day's wheel was roU'd,
Weep that she liv'd not in the age of gold ;
For that she was not then, thou may'st deplore
As duly as that now she is no more. 50

126 POEMS

If only she had died, thou sure hadst cause
To blame the destines, and heaven's iron laws ;
But look how many millions her advance,
What numbers with her enter in this dance,
With those which are to come : shall heavens them
stay, 55

And All's fair order break, thee to obey ?
Even as thy birth, death, which doth thee appal,
A piece is of the life of this great All.
Strong cities die, die do high palmy reigns.
And, weakling, thou thus to be handled plains. 6o

If she be dead, then she of loathsome days
Hath past the line, whose length but loss bewrays ;
Then she hath left this filthy stage of care.
Where pleasure seldom, woe doth still repair :
For all the pleasures which it doth contain, 65

Not countervail the smallest minute's pain.
And tell me, thou who dost so much admire
This little vapour, smoke, this spark, or fire.
Which life is call'd, what doth it thee bequeath
But some few years which birth draws out to death ? ro
Which if thou paragon with lustres run,
And them whose career is but now begun,
In day's great vast they shall far less appear,
Than with the sea when matched is a tear.
But why wouldst thou here longer wish to be ? 75

One year doth serve all nature's pomp to see,
Nay, even one day and night : this moon, that sun,
Those lesser fires about this round which run.
Be but the same which, under Saturn's reign.
Did the serpenting seasons interchain. so

POEMS 127

How oft doth life grow less by living long ?
And what excelleth but what dieth young ?•
For age which all abhor, yet would embrace,
^Vhiles makes the mind as wrinkled as the face ;
And when that destinies conspire with worth, 85

That years not glory wrong, life soon goes forth.
Leave then laments, and think thou didst not live,
Laws to that first eternal cause to give,
But to obey those laws which he hath given,
And bow unto the just decrees of Heaven, 90

\\Tiich can not err, whatever foggy mists
Do blind men in these sublunary lists.

But what if she for whom thou spend'st those
groans,
And wastest life's dear torch in ruthful moans,
She for whose sake thou hat'st the joyful light, 95

Court'st solitary shades, and irksome night,
Doth live ? O ! if thou canst, through tears, a space
Lift thy dimm'd lights, and look upon this face,
Look if those eyes which, fool, thou didst adore.
Shine not more bright than they were wont before ; 100
Look if those roses death could aught impair.
Those roses to thee once which seem'd so fair j
And if these locks have lost aught of that gold.
Which erst they had when thou them didst behold.
I live, and happy live, but thou art dead, iu3

And still shalt be, till thou be like me made.
Alas ! whilst we are wrapt in gowns of earth,
And blind, here suck the air of woe beneath,
Each thing in sense's balances we weigh,
And but with toil and pain the truth descry. no

128 POEMS

Above this vast and admirable frame,
This temple visible, which World we name,
Within whose walls so many lamps do burn,
So many arches opposite do turn,
Where elemental brethren nurse their strife, lis

And by intestine wars maintain their life.
There is a world, a world of perfect bliss,
Pure, immaterial, bright, more far from this
Than that high circle, which the rest enspheres,
Is from this dull ignoble vale of tears ; 120

A world, where all is found, that here is found,
But further discrepant than heaven and ground.
It hath an earth, as hath this world of yours,
With creatures peopled, stor'd with trees and

flow'rs ;
It hath a sea, like sapphire girdle cast, 125

Which decketh of harmonious shores the vast ;
It hath pure fire, it hath delicious air.
Moon, sun, and stars, heavens wonderfully fair :
But there flow'rs do not fade, trees grow not old,
The creatures do not die through heat nor cold ; 130
Sea there not tossed is, nor air made black
Fire doth not nurse itself on others' wrack ;
There heavens be not constrain'd about to range,
For this world hath no need of any change ;
The minutes grow not hours, hours rise not days, :s5
Da5-s make no months but ever-blooming Mays,

Here I remain, but hitherward do tend
All who their span of days in virtue spend :
\Vhatever pleasure this low place contains,
It is a glance but of what high remains. i-io

POEMS 129

Those who, perchance, think there can nothing be

Without this wide expansion which they see,

And that nought else mounts stars' circumference,

For that nought else is subject to their sense.

Feel such a case, as one whom some abysm 145

Of the deep ocean kept had all his time ;

Who born and nourished there, can scarcely dream

That ought can live without that briny stream ;

Cannot believe that there be temples, towers.

Which go beyond his caves and dampish bowers, 150

Or there be other people, manners, laws,

Than them he finds within the roaring waves ;

That sweeter flow'rs do spring than grow on rocks,

Or beasts be which excel the scaly flocks ;

That other elements be to be found, 155

Than is the water, and this ball of ground.

But think that man from those abysms were brought,

And saw what curious nature here hath wrought,

Did see the meads, the tall and shady woods,

The hills did see, the clear and aml^ling floods, leo

The diverse shapes of beasts which kinds forth

bring.
The feathered troops, that fly and sweetly sing ;
Did see the palaces, the cities fair,
The form of human life, the fire, the air,
The brightness of the sun that dims his sight, 165

The moon, the ghastly splendours of the night :
What uncouth rapture would his mind siurprise !
How would he his late-dear resort despise !
How would he muse how foolish he had been
To think nought be, but what he there had seen ! i7o

\Oh. I. I

130 POEMS

Why did we get this high and vast desire,

Unto immortal things still to aspire ?

AVhy doth our mind extend it beyond time,

And to that highest happiness even climb,

If we be nought but what to sense we seem, 175

And dust, as most of worldlings us esteem ?

We be not made for earth, though here we come,

More than the embryon for the mother's womb ;

It weeps to be made free, and we complain

To leave this loathsome jail of care and pain. iso

But thou who vulgar footsteps dost not trace,
Learn to raise up thy mind unto this place,
An 1 what earth -creeping mortals most affect.
If not at all to scorn, yet to neglect :
O chase not shadows vain, which, when obtain'd, is5
Were better lost, than with such travail gain'd.
Think that on earth, which humans greatness call,
Is but a glorious title to live thrall ;
That sceptres, diadems, and chairs of state,
Not in themselves, but to small minds are great ; 190
How those who loftiest mount do hardest light,
And deepest falls be from the highest height ;
How fame an echo is, how all renown,
Like to a blasted rose, ere night falls down ;
And though it something were, think how this round 195
Is but a little point, which doth it bound.
O leave that love which reachcth but to dust.
And in that love eternal only trust.
And beauty, which, when once it is possest,
Can only fill the soul, and make it blest. iw

Pale envy, jealous emulations, fears.

POEMS 131

Sighs, plaints, remorse, here have no place, nor tears ;

False joys, vain hopes, here be not, hate nor wrath j

What ends all love, here most augments it, death.

If such force had the dim glance of an eye, 205

Which some few days thereafter was to die,

That it could make thee leave all other things.

And like the taper-fly there burn thy things ;

And if a voice, of late which could but wail,

Such pow'r had, as through ears thy soul to steal ; 2x9

If once thou on that only Fair couldst gaze,

What flames of love would he within thee raise !

In what a mazing maze would it thee bring.

To hear but once that quire celestial sing !

The fairest shapes on which thy love did seize, 215

Which erst did breed delight, then would displease,

Then discords hoarse were earth's enticing sounds.

All music but a noise which sense confounds.

This great and burning glass that clears all eyes.

And musters with such glory in the skies ; -u-t

That silver star which with its sober light

Makes day oft envy the eye-pleasing night ;

Those golden letters which so brightly shine

In heaven's great volume gorgeously divine ;

The wonders all in sea, in earth, in air, t«

Be but dark pictures of that sovereign Fair ;

Be tongues, which still thus cry unto your ear,

(Could ye amidst world's cataracts them hear,)

From fading things, fond wights, lift j'our desire,

And in our beauty, his, us made, admire : -xm

If we seem fair, O think how fair is he

Of whose fair jairness shadows, steps, we be.

132 POEMS

No shadow can compare it with the face,

No step with that dear foot which did it trace ;

Your souls immortal are, then place them hence, 235

And do not drown them in the must of sense :

Do not, O do not, by false pleasures' might

Deprive them of that true and sole delight.

That happiness ye seek is not below ;

Earth's sweetest joy is but disguised woe. -j-m

Here did she pause, and with a mild aspect
Did towards me those lamping twins direct ;
The wonted rays I knew, and thrice essay'd
To answer make, thrice falt'ring tongue it stay'd ;
And while upon that face I fed my sight, 245

Methought she vanish'd up in Titan's light.
Who gilding with his rays each hill and plain,
Seem'd to have brought the golden * world again.

* The edition of i6i61ias "goldsmith's" for " golden' :
I have followed that of 1656.

TO THE AUTHOR

The sister nymphs who haunt the Thespian springs.
Ne'er did their gifts more liberally bequeath
To them who on their hills sucked sacred breath.
Than unto thee, by which thou sweetly sings.
Xe'er did Apollo raise on Pegase' wings
A muse more near himself, more far fj-om earth,
Thaji thine, if she do weep thy lady''s death.
Or sing those sweet-sour pangs which passion brings.
To write our thoughts in verse doth merit praise,
But those our verse to gild in fiction s ore.
Bright, rich, delightful, doth deserve much more.
As thou hast done these thy delicious lays :
Thy muse's morning, doubtless, doth bewray
The near approach of a more glisf ring day.

D. MURRAY.

URANIA, OR SPIRITUAL POEMS

URANIA, OR SPIRITUAL POEMS

Triumphing chariots, statues, crowns of bays,
Sky-threat'ning arches, the rewards of worth.
Works heavenly wise in sweet harmonious lays,
Which sprights divine unto the world set forth ;
States, which ambitious minds with blood do raise, ;
P^rom frozen Tanais to sun-gilded Gange,
Gigantic frames, held wonders rarely strange.
Like spiders' webs, are made the sport of days.
All only constant is in constant change,
\Vhat done i.s, is undone, and when undone, k

Into some other fashion doth it range :
Thus goes the floating world beneath the moon :
Wherefore, my mind, above time, motion, place.
Thee raise, and steps unknown to nature trace.

Too long I follow'd have my fond desire.
And too long panted on the Ocean streams,
Too long refreshment sought amidst the fire,
And hunted joys, which to my soul were blames.
Ah I when I had what most I did admire,
137

13S SPIRITUAL POEMS

And seen of life's delights the last extremes,
I found all but a rose hedg'd with a brier,
A nought, a thought, a show of mocking dreams.
Henceforth on thee, mine only good, I'll think,
For only thou canst grant what I do crave ; 10

Thy nail my pen shall be, thy blood mine ink,
Thy winding-sheet my paper, study, grave.
And till that soul forth of this body flee,
No hope I'll have, but only only Thee.

To spread the azure canopy of heaven,
And make it twinkle all with spangs of gold,
To place this pond'rous globe of earth so even,
That it should all, and nought should it uphold ;
To give strange motions to the planets seven, 5

And Jove to make so meek, and Mars so bold :
To temper what is moist, dry, hot, and cold,
<^f all their jars that sweet accords are given ;
Lord, to thy wit is nought, nought to thy might :
But that thou shouldst, thy glory laid aside, la

Come basely in mortality to bide,
And die for them deserv'd eternal plight,
A wonder is so far above our wit.
That angels stand amaz'd to think on it.

Comb forth, come forth, ye blest triumphing bands,

Fair citizens of that immortal town.

Come see that King, who all this All commands

Now, overcharg'd with love, die for his own.

Look on those nails which pierce his feet and hands ; 5

SPIRITUAL POEMS 139

What a strange diadem his brows doth crown !

Behold his pallid face, his eyes which swoon,

And what a throng of thieves him mocking stands r

Come forth, ye empyrean troops, come forth,

Preserve this sacred blood, which earth adorns ; ic

Gather those liquid roses from his thorns,

O ! to be lost they be of too much worth ;

For streams, juice, balm, they are, which quench,
kills, charms.

Of God, death, hell, the wrath, the life, the harms.

Soul, which to hell %vast thrall,

He, He for thine offence

Did suffer death, who could not die at all.

O sovereign excellence !

O life of all that lives !

Eternal bounty, which all goodness gives !

How could Death mount so high ?

No wit this point can reach ;

Faith only doth us teach.

For us He died, at all who could not die.

If with such passing beauty, choice delights,

The architect of this great round did frame

This palace visible, which world we name,

Vet silly mansion but of mortal wights ;

How many wonders, what amazing lights.

Must that triumphing seat of glory claim,

Which doth transcend all this great All's high heiglit.s

Of whose bright sun ours here is but a beam I

140 SPIRITUAL POEMS

O blest abode ! O happy dwelling-place
Where visibly th' Invisible doth reign !
Blest people, who do see true beauty's face,
With whose dark shadows he but earth dotli deign,
All joy is but annoy, all concord strife,
Match'd witli your endless bliss and happy life.

Love which is here a care.

That wit and will doth mar,

Uncertain truce, and a most certain war ;

A shrill tempestuous wind,

Which doth disturb the mind,

And, like wild waves, our designs all commove :

Among those sprights above

Which see their Maker's face,

It a contentment is, a quiet peace,
A pleasure void of grief, a constant rest,
Eternal joy which nothing can molest.

What hapless hap had I now to be bom
In these unhappy times, and dying days,
Of this else-doating world, when good decays.
Love is quench'd forth, and virtue held a scorn
When such are only priz'd, by wretched ways
Who with a golden fleece them can adorn,
\Vhen avarice and lust are counted praise,
And noble minds live orphan-like forlorn ?
Why was not I into that golden age.

SPIRITUAL POEMS 141

When gold yet was not known, and those black arts, 10
By which base mortals vilely play their parts,
And stain with horrid acts earth's stately stage ?

Then to have been, heaven ! it had been my bliss ;

But bless me now, and take me soon from this.

Thrice happy he, who by some shady grove,

Far from the clamorous world doth live his own.

Though solitare, yet who is not alone,

But doth converse with that eternal love.

O how more sweet is birds' harmonious moan, 5

Or the soft sobbings of the widow'd dove,

Than those smooth whisp'rings near a prince's throne,

Which good make doubtful, do the evil approve !

O how more sweet is zephyr's wholesome breath.

And sighs perfum'd, which do the flowers unfold, 10

Than that applause vain honour doth bequeath !

How sweet are streams to poison drunk in gold !

The world is full of horrors, falsehoods, slights ;

Woods' silent shades have only true delights.

Why, worldlings, do ye trust frail honour's dreams,

And lean to gilded glories which decay ?

Why do ye toil to registrate your names

In icy columns, which soon melt away ?

True honour is not here ; that place it claims, 5

Where black-brow'd night doth not exile the day,

Nor no far-shining lamp dives in the sea,

But an eternal sun spreads lasting beams.

142

SPIRITUAL POEMS

There it attendeth you, where spotless bands
■Of sprights stand gazing on their sovereign bliss, ut
Where years not hold it in their cank'ring hands.
But who once noble ever noble is :

Look home, lest he your weak'ned wit make thrall,
Who Eden's foolish gard'ner erst made fall.

AsTREA in this time

Now doth not live, but is fled up to heaven ;

Or if she live, it is not without crime

That she doth use her power,

And she is no more virgin, but a whore,

Whore prostitute for gold :

For she doth never hold her balance even ;

And when her sword is roll'd,

The bad, injurious, false she not o'erthrows,
But on the innocent lets fall her blows.

What serves it to be good ? Goodness, by thee

The holy-wise is thought a fool to be ;

For thee the man to temperance inclin'd.

Is held but of a base and abject mind ;

The continent is thought for thee but cold ;

Who yet was good, that ever died old ?

The pitiful who others fears to kill,

Is kill'd himself, and goodness doth him ill :

The meek and humble man who cannot brave,

By thee is to some giant's brood made slave.

SPIRITUAL POEMS 143

Poor Goodness, thine thou to such wrongs sett'st forth.
That O ! I fear me, thou art nothing worth :
And when I look to earth, and not to heaven,
Ere I were turned dove, I would be raven.

Great God whom we with humble thoughts adore.
Eternal, infinite, almighty king,

Whose palace heaven transcends, whose throne before
Archangels serve, and seraphim do sing ;
Of nought who wrought all that with wond'ring eyes &
We do behold within this s; acious round,
Who mak'st the rocks to rock, and stand the skies.
At whose command the horrid thunders sound :
Ah ! spare us worms, weigh not how we, alas !
Evil to ourselves, against thy laws rebel ; le

Wash off those spots, which still in conscience' glass.
Though we be loth to look, we see too well.
Deserv'd revenge, O do not, do not take :
If thou revenge, what shall abide thy blow ?
Pass shall this world, this world which thou didst
make, 15

Which should not perish till thy trumpet blow.
For who is he whom parents' sin not stains,
Or with his own offence is not defil'd ?
Though Justice ruin threaten. Justice' reins
Let Mercy hold, and be both just and mild. i*

Less are our faults far far than is thy love ;
O ! what can better seem * thy pow'r divine,

* Seem : beseem.

144 SPIRITUAL POEMS

Than those who evil deserve thy goodness prove,

And where thou thunder shouldst there fair to shine?

Then look, and pity, pitying forgive 25

Us guilty slaves, or servants, at thy will ;

Slaves, if, alas ! thou look'st how we do live,

Or doing nought at all, or doing ill,

Of an ungrateful mind a foul effect.

But if thy gifts, which largely heretofore 30

Thou hast upon us pour'd, thou dost respect,

We be thy servants, nay, than servants more,

Thy children, yes, and children dearly bought ;

But what strange chance us of this lot bereaves ?

Vile rebels, O ! how basely are we brought ! 35

Whom grace made children, sin hath now made slaves ;

Sin slaves hath made, but let thy grace sin thrall.

That in our wrongs thy mercy may appear :

Thy wisdom not so weak is, pow'r so small,

But thousand ways they can make men thee fear. 40

O wisdom boundless ! admirable grace !
Grace, wisdom, which do dazzle reason's eye.
And could Heaven's king bring from his placeless

place,
On this infamous stage of woe to die,
To die our death, and with the sacred stream 45

Of blood and water gushing from his side,
To expiate that sin and deadly blame,
Contrived first by our first parents' pride !
Thus thy great love and pity, heavenly king,
Love, pity, which so well our loss prevents, 50

Could even of evil itself all goodness bring,
And sad beginnings cheer with glad events.

SPIRITUAL POEMS 145

O love and pity ! ill known of these times,

O love and pity ! careful of our bliss,

O goodness ! with the heinous acts and crimes 55

Of this black age that almost vanquish'd is,

Make this excessive ardour of thy love

So warm our coldness, so our lives renew.

That we from sin, sin may from us remove,

Wit may our will, faith may our wit subdue. eo

Let thy pure love burn up all mortal lust,

That band of ills which thralls our better part,

And fondly makes us worship fleshly dust.

Instead of thee, in temple of our heart.

Grant, when at last the spright shall leave this
tomb, («

This loathsome shop of sin, and mansion blind.
And (call'd) before thy royal seat doth come,
It may a saviour, not a judge, thee find.

VOL. I.

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

THE STATUE OF MEDUSA.

Of that Medusa strange,

Who those that did her see in rocks did change,

None image carv'd is this ;

Medusa's self it is :

For whilst at heat of day,

To quench her thirst, she by this spring did stay,

Her curling snakes beholding in this glass,

Life did her leave, and thus transform'd she was.

THE TROJAN HORSE.

A HORSE I am. whom bit.

Rein, rod, nor spur, not fear ;

When I my riders bear.

Within my womb, not on my back, they sit :

No streams I drink, nor care for grass nor corn ;

Art me a monster wrought,

All nature's works to scorn :

A mother, I was without mother born ;

In end all arm'd my father I forth brought :

What thousand ships, and champions of renown

Could not do free, I captive raz'd a town.

ISO MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS
A lover's heaven.

Those stars, nay, suns, which turn

So stately in their spheres,

And dazzling do not burn ;

The beauty of the morn

Which on those cheeks appears,

The harmony which to that voice is given,

Make me think ye are heaven :

If heaven ye be, O that by pow'rful charms

I Atlas were, to hold you in mine arms !

DEEP IMPRESSION OF LOVE.

Whom raging dog doth bite,

He doth in water still

That Cerberus' image see :

Love, mad, perhaps, when he my heart did smite,

More to dissemble ill,

Transform'd himself in thee,

For ever since thou present art to me :

No spring there is, no flood, nor other place.

Where I, alas ! not see thy heavenly face.

THE PORTRAIT OF MARS AND VENUS.

Fair Paphos' wanton queen,
Not drawn in white and red,
Is truly here, as when in Vulcan's bed

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS 151

She was of all heaven's laughing senate seen.

Gaze on her hair and eyne, 3

Her brows, the bows of love,

Her back with Lilies spread :

And ye should see her turn, and sweetly move,.

But that she neither so will do, nor dare,

For fear to wake the angry god of war. la

lOLAS* EPITAPH=

Here dear lolas lies,

WTio whilst he liv*d, in beauty did surpass

That boy whose heavenly eyes

Brought Cypris from above,

Or him till death who look'd in wat'ry glass,

Even judge the god of love ;

And if the nymph once held of him so dear,

Dorine the fair, would here but shed one tear.

Thou shouldst, in nature's scorn,

A purple flower see of this marble born.

UPON THE DEATH OF A LINNET.

If cruel Death had ears.

Or could be pleas'd by songs,

This wing-'d musician liv'd had many years,

And Chloris mine had never wept these wrongs :

For when it first took breath,

The heavens their notes did unto it bequeath ;

152 MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

And, if that Samian's * sentence be found true,
Amphion in this body liv'd of new :
But Death, for that he nothing spares, nought hears,
As he doth kings, it kill'd, O grief I O tears ! n

alcon's kiss.

What others at their ear,

Two pearls Camilla at her nose did wear ;

Which Alcon, who nought saw

(For love is blind), robb'd with a pretty kiss ;

But having known his miss, 5

And felt what ore he from that mine did draw,

When she to charge again him did desire,

He fled, and said, foul water quenched fire.

ICARUS.

Whilst with audacious wings

I sprang those airy ways.

And fill'd, a monster new, with dread and fears.

The feathered people, and their eagle kings ;

Dazzled with Phoebus' rays, s

And charmed with the music of the spheres.

When pens could move no more, and force did fail,

I measur'd by a fall these lofty bounds :

Yet doth renown my losses countervail,

For still the shore my brave attempt resounds ; i«

A sea, an element doth bear my name |

Who hath so vast a tomb in place or fame ?

* Pythagoras.

MADRIGALS AXD EPIGRAMS 153

CHERRIES.

My wanton, weep no more

The losing of your cherries ;

Those, and far sweeter berries,

Your sister in good store

Hath, spread on lips and face : 5

Be glad, kiss but with me, and hold your peace.

OF THAUMANTIA, BEHOLDING HERSELF IN
A MARBLE.

World, wonder not that I

Engrave thus in my breast

This angel face which me bereaves of rest ;

Since things even wanting sense cannot deny

To lodge so dear a guest, a

And this hard marble stone

Receives the same, and loves, but cannot groan

LOVE SUFFERETH NO PARASOL.

Those eyes, dear eyes, be spheres,

Where two bright suns are roll'd ;

That fair hand to behold,

Of whitest snow appears :

Then while ye coyly stand, «

To hide from me those eyes,

Sweet, I would you advise

To choose some other fan than that while hand ;

For if ye do, for truth most true this know.

That suns ere long must needs consume warm snow. 10

154 MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

SLEEPING BEAUTY.

O SIGHT too dearly bought !

She sleeps, and though those eyes,

Which lighten Cupid's skies,

Be clos'd, yet such a grace

Environeth that place.

That I through wonder to grow faint am brought

Suns, if eclips'd ye have such power divine,

O ! how can I endure you when ye shine ?

THE QUALITY OF A KISS.

The kiss with so much strife

Which I late got, sweet heart,

Was it a sign of death, or was it life ?

Of life it could not be,

For I by it did sigh my soul in thee ;

Nor was it death, death doth no joy impart.

Thou silent stand'st, ah ! what thou didst bequeath.

To me a dying life was, living death.

OF PHILLIS.

In petticoat of green.

Her hair about her eyne,

Phillis beneath an oak

Sat milking her fair flock :

Among that strained moisture, rare delight !

Her hand seem'd milk in milk, it was so white.

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS 155

KISSES DESIRED.

Though I with strange desire

To kiss those rosy lips am set on firp,

Vet will I cease to crave

Sweet touches in such store,

As he * who long before

From Lesbia them in thousands did receive.

Heart mine, but once me kiss,

And I by that sweet bliss

Even swear to cease you to importune more :

Poor one no number is ;

Another word of me ye shall not hear

After one kiss, but still one kiss, my dear.

OF DAMETAS.

Dametas dream'd he saw his wife at sport.
And found that sight was through the homy port.

THE CAXXOX.

When first the cannon from her gaping throat,
Against the heaven her roaring sulphur shot,
Jove waken'd with the noise, and ask'd with wonder,
What mortal wight had stolen from him his thunder :
His crystal towers he fear'd ; but fire and air, 5

So deep, did stay the ball from mounting there.

* Catullus.

IS6 MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

APELLES ENAMOURED OF CAMPASPE,
ALEXANDER'S MISTRESS.

Poor painter, whilst I sought

To counterfeit by art

The fairest frame that nature ever wrought,

And having limn'd each part,

Except her matchless eyes, .■;

Scarce on those twins I gaz'd,

As lightning falls from skies,

When straight my hand benumb'd was, mind amaz'd ;

And ere that pencil half them had exprest,

Love all had drawn, no, graven within my breast, lu

CAMPASPE.

On stars shall I exclaim,

Which thus my fortune change ?

Or shall I else revenge

Upon myself this shame ?

Unconstant monarch, or shall I thee blame, i

Who lett'st Apelles prove

The sweet delights of Alexander's love ?

No, stars, myself, and thee, I all forgive,

And joy that thus I live :

Kings know not beauty, hence mine was despis'd ; i.'

The painter did, and me he dearly priz'd.

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS 157

UNPLEASANT MUSIC.

In fields Ribaldo stray'd

May's tapestry to see,

And hearing on a tree

A cuckoo sing, he sigh'd, and softly said,

Lo ! how, alas ! even birds sit mocking me !

A JEST.

In a most holy church a holy man
Unto a holy saint, with visage wan,
And eyes like fountains, mumbled forth a prayer,
And with strange words and sighs made black the air
And having long so stay'd, and long long pray'd,
A thousand crosses on himself he laid ;
Then with some sacred beads hung on his arm,
His eyes, his mouth, breast, temples did he charm.
Thus not content (strange worship hath none end),
To kiss the earth at last he did pretend, k

And bowing down, besought with humble grace
An aged woman near to give some place :

She turn'd, and turning up her beneath,

Said, sir, kiss here, for it is all but earth.

NARCISSUS.

Floods cannot quench my flames ! ah ! in this well
I burn, not drown, for what I cannot tell.

158 MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

TO THAUMANTIA SINGING,

Is it not too, too much

Thou late didst to me prove

A basilisk of love.

And didst my wits bewitch ;

Unless, to cause more harm,

Made Syren too, thou with thy voice me charm ?

Ah ! though thou so my reason didst control,

That to thy looks I could not prove a mole.

Yet do me not that wrong,

As not to let me turn asp to thy song.

OF HER DOG.

When her dear bosom clips

That little cur, which fawns to touch her lips,

Or when it is his hap

To lie lapp'd in her lap,

O ! it grows noon with me ;

With hotter-pointed beams

M)' burning planet streams,

What rays were erst, in lightnings changed be.

When oft I muse, how I to those extremes

Am brought, I find no cause, except that she,

In love's bright zodiac having trac'd each room,

To fatal Sirius now at last is come.

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS 159

A KISS.

Hark, happy lovers, hark,

This first and last of joys.

This sweet'ner of annoys,

This nectar of the gods

Ye call a kiss, is with itself at odds ;

And half so sweet is not

In equal measure got

At light of sun, as it is in the dark :

Hark, happy lovers, hark.

CORNUCOPIA,

If for one only horn

Which nature to him gave,

So famous is the noble unicorn,

\Vhat praise should that man have,

Whose head a lady brave

Doth with a goodly pair at once adorn ?

OF AMINTAS.

Over a crystal source

Amintas laid his face,

Of purling * streams to see the restless course :

But scarce he had o'ershadowed the place,

* Purling : this is Phillips's reading ; the edition of iftrG
has " popling."

i6o MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

When (spying in the ground a child arise,

Like to himself in stature, face, and eyes)

lie rose o'erjoyed, and cried,

Dear mates, approach, see whom I have descried

The boy of whom strange stories shepherds tell,

Oft-called Hylas, dweileth in this well.

PAMPHILUS.

Some, ladies wed, some love, and some adore them,
I like their wanton sport, then care not for them.

UPON A GLASS.

If thou wouldst see threads purer than the gold,

Where love his wealth doth show.

But take this glass, and thy fair hair behold :

If whiteness thou wouldst see more white tlian snow,

And read on wonder's book, ;

Take but this glass, and on thy forehead look.

Wouldst thou in winter see a crimson rose.

Whose thorns do hurt each heart,

Look but in glass how thy sweet lips do close t

Wouldst thou see planets which all good impart, k

Or meteors divine,

But take this glass, and gaze upon thine eyne.

No, planets, rose, snow, gold, cannot compare

With you, dear eyes, lips, brows, and amber hair I

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS i6i

OF A BEE.

As an audacious knight,

Come with some foe to fight,

His sword doth brandish, makes his armour ring ;

So this proud bee, at home perhaps a king.

Did buzzing fly about, 5

And, tyrant, after thy fair lip did sting :

O champion strange as stout !

Who hast by nature found

Sharp arms, and trumpet shrill, to sound and wound.

OF THAT SAME.

O ! DO not kill that bee

That thus hath wounded thee !

Sweet, it was no despite,

But hue did him deceive,

For when thy lips did close,

He deemed them a rose.

What wouldst thou further crave ?

He wanting wit, and blinded with delight,

Would fain have kiss'd, but mad with joy did bite.

OF A KISS.

Ah ! of that cruel bee
Thy lips have suck'd too much,
P'or when they mine did touch,
I found that both they hurt, and sweeten'd me :
VOL. I. L

i62 MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

This by the sting they have, 5

And that they of the honey do receive.

Dear kiss ! else by what art

Couldst thou at once both please and wound my heart ?

IDMON TO VENUS.

If, Acidalia's queen,

Thou quench in me thy torch,

And with the same Thaumantia's heart shall scorch,

Each year a myrtle-tree

Here I do vow to consecrate to thee ;

And when the meads grow green,

I will of sweetest flowers

Weave thousand garlands to adorn thy bowers.

A lover's plaint.

In midst of silent night,

^Vhen men, birds, beasts, do rest,

With love and fear possest.

To Heaven and Flore I count my heavy plight.

Again, with roseate wings

When morn peeps forth, and Philomela sings.

Then void of all relief.

Do I renew my grief :

Day follows night, night day, whilst still I prove

That Heaven is deaf, Flore careless of my love.

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS 163

HIS FIREBRAND.

Lea\'e, page, that slender torch,

And in this gloomy night

Let only shine the light

Of love's hot brandon, which n;y heart doth scorch

A sigh, or blast of wind.

My tears, or drops of rain,

May that at once make blind ;

Whilst this, like yEtna, burninc: shall remain.

DAPHNIS VOW.

Whex sun doth bring the day

From the Hesperian sea,

Or moon her coach doth roll

Above the northern pole ;

When serpents cannot hiss,

And lovers shall not kiss ;

Then may it be, but in no time till then..

That Daphnis can forget his Orienne,

OF NISA.

NiSA, Palemon's wife, him weeping told.
He kept not grammar rules, now being old :
For why, quoth she, position false make ye,
Putting a short thing where a long should be ?

i64 MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

BEAUTYS IDEA.

Who would perfection's fair idea see,

Let him come look on Chioris sweet with me.

White is her hand,* her teeth white, white her skin,

Black be her eyes, her eyebrows Cupid's inn ;

Her locks, her body, hands do long appear, 5

But teeth short, belly short, short either ear ;

The space 'twixt shoulders, eyes, is wiile, brows wide,

Strait waist, the mouth strait, and her virgin pride ;

Thick are her lips, thighs, with banks swelling there,

Her nose is small, small fingers ; and her hair, ij

Her sugared mouth, her cheeks, her nails be red ;

Little her foot, pap little, and her head.

Such Venus was, such was the flame of Troy :
Such Chioris is, my hope and only joy.

craton's death.

Amidst the waves profound,
Far, far from all relief,
The honest fisher, Craton, ah ! is drown'd
Into his little skiff;

The boards of which did serve him for a bier, 5

:So that to the black world when he came near,
■Of him no waftage greedy Charon got,
For he in his own boat
Did pass that flood by which the gods do swear.

* Hand; ' liair" in former editions, which is obvi-
. ously incorrect.

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS 165

ARMELINES EPITAPH.

Near to this eglantine

Enclosed lies the milk-white Armeline,

Once Chloris' only joy,

Now only her annoy ;

Who envied was of the most happy swains .7

That keep their flocks in mountains, dales, or plains ;

For oft she bare the wanton in her arm,

And oft her bed and bosom did he warm :

Now when unkindly Fates did him destroy.

Blest dog, he had the grace, 10

With tears for him that Chloris wet her face.

THE STATUE OF VENUS SLEEPING.

Break not my sweet repose.

Thou whom free will or chance brings to this place ;

Let lids these comets close,

O do not seek to see their shining grace ;

For when mine eyes thou seest, they thine will blind, iS

And thou shalt part, but leave thy heart behind.

liela's prayer.

LcvE, if thou wilt once more

That I to thee return.

Sweet god ! make me not burn

For quivering age that doth spent days deplore ;

i66 MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

Nor do not wound my liearl

For some unconstant boy,

Who joys to love, yet makes of love a toy :

But, ah ! if I must prove thy golden dart,

Of grace, O let me find

A sweet young lover with an aged mind.

Thus Lilla pray'd, and Idas did reply,

"Who heard, Dear, have thy wish, for such am I

thp: unkindness of rora.

Whilst, sighing forth his wrongs,

In sweet, though doleful songs,

Alexis seeks to charm his Rora's ears.

The hills are heard to moan,

To sigh each spring appears ; 5

Trees, even hard trees, through rind distil their tears.

And soft grows every stone ;

But tears, sighs, songs cannot fair Rora move ;

Proud of his plaints, she glories in his love.

ANTHE.VS GIFT,

This virgin lock of hair

To Idmon Anthea gives,

Idmon for whom she lives.

Though oft she mix his hopes with cold despair :

This now ; but, absent if he constant prove,

With gift more dear she vows to meet his love.

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS 167

TO THAUMANTIA.

Come, let us live and love,

And kiss, Thaumantia mine :

I shall the elm be, be to me the vine ;

Come let us teach new billing to the dove ;

Nay, to augment our bliss, 5

Let souls even other kiss ;

Let Love a workman be,

Undo, distemper, and his cunning prove,

Of kisses three make one, of one make three :

Though moon, sun, stars, be bodies far more bright, 10

Let them not vaunt they match us in delight.

EPITAPH.

This dear, though not respected earth doth hold
One, for his worth, whose tomb should be of gold.

OF LI DA.

Such Lida is, that who her sees.

Through envy, or through love straight dies.

A WISH.

To forge to mighty Jove
The thunder-bolts above,
Nor on this round below
Rich Midas' skill to know,

i6S MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

And make all gold I touch,
I do not crave, nor other cunning such ;
Of all those arts be underneath the sky,
I wish but Phillis' lapidare to be.

A LOVER'S DAY AND NIGHT.

Bright meteor of day,

For me in Thetis' bowers for ever stay :

Night, to this flowery globe

Ne'er show for me thy star-embroider'd robe ;

My night, my day, do not proceed from you.

But hang on Mira's brow ;

For when she lowers, and hides from me her eyes,

'Midst clearest day I find black night arise ;

When, smiling, she again those twins doth turn,

In midst of night I find noon's torch to burn. lo

THE STATUE OF ADONIS.

When Venus 'longst that plain

This Parian Adon saw.

She sigh'd, and said, ^Vhat power breaks Destine's law.

World-mourned boy, and makes thee live again?

Then with stretch'd arms she ran him to enfold : 5

But when she did behold

The boar whose snowy tusks did threaten death.

Fear closed up her breath :

Who can but grant then that these stones do live,

Sith this bred love, and that a wound did eive ? 10

MADRIGALS AND I^FIGRAMS 169

CHLORUS TO A GROVE.

Old oak, and you, thick grove,

I ever shall you love,

With these sweet-smelling briers ;

For, briers, oak, grove, ye crowned my desires.

When underneath your shade

I left my woe, and Flore her maidenhead.

A COUPLET ENCOMIASTIC.

Love, Cypris, Phoebus, will feed, deck, and crown
Thy heart, brows, verse, with flames, with flow'rs,
renown.

ANOTHER.

Thy muse not-able, full, il-lustred rhymes
Make theeithe poet-aster of our times. >

THE ROSE.

Flower, which of Adon's blood

Sprang, when of that clear flood

Which Venus wept another while was born,

The sweet Cynarean youth thou right dost show

But this sharp-pointed thorn,

Which does so proud about thy crimson grow,

170 MADRIGALS A.\D EPIGRAMS

"What cloth it represent ?

Boars' tusks, perhaps, his snowy flank which rent :
O show of shows ! of unesteemed * worth,
Which both what kill'd and what was kill'd sett'st
forth. lu

TO A RIVER.

SiTH she will not that I

Show to the world my joy,

Thou who oft mine annoy

Hast heard, dear flood, tell Thetis' nymphets bright,

That not a happier wight 5

Doth breathe beneath the sky ;

More sweet, more white, more fair,

Lips, hands, and amber hair,

Tell none did ever touch ;

A smaller, daintier waist, ](>

Tell never was embrac'd :

But peace, sith she forbids thou tell'st too much.

THAIS' METAMORPHOSE.

Into Briareus huge

Thais wish'd she might change

Her man, and pray'd him herefore not to grudge,

Kor fondly think it strange :

■-■ Unesteemed : inestimable.

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

For if, said she, I might the parts dispose,
I wish you not an hundred arms nor hands,
But hundred things like those
With which Priapus in our garden stands.

UPON A BAY TREE, NOT LONG SINCE GROW-
ING IN THE RUINS OF VIRGIL'S TOMB.

Those stones which once had trust

Of Maro's sacred dust.

Which now of their first beauty spoil'a are seen,

That they due praise not want,

Inglorious and remain, 5

A Delian tree, fair nature's only plant.

Now courts, and shadows with her tresses green :

Sing lo Psean, ye of Phoebus' train.

Though envy, avarice, time, your tombs throw down,

With maiden laurels nature will them crown. 10

EPITAPH.

Then death thee hath beguil'd,

Alecto's first-born child ;

Thou who didst thrall all laws.

Then against worms canst not maintain thy cause ;

Yet worms, more just than thou, now do no wrong, 5

Sith all do wonder they thee spar'd so long,

For though from life but lately thou didst pass,

Ten springs are gone since thou corrupted was.

172 MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS
flora's flower.

Venus doth love the rose ;

Apollo those dear flow'rs

Which were his paramours ;

The queen of sable skies

The subtle lunaries ;

But Flore likes none of those,

For fair to her no flower seems save the lily :

And why ? because one letter turns it

MELAMPUS' EPITAPH.

ALL that a dog could have,

The good Melampus had ;

Nay, he had more than what in beasts we crave,

For he could play the brave,

And often like a Thraso stern go mad ;

And if ye had not seen, but heard him bark,

Ye would have sworn he was your parish clerk.

KALA'S COMPLAINT.

Kala, old Mopsus' wife.

Kala with fairest face,

For whom the neighbour swains oft were at strife,

As she to milk her milk-white flock did tend,

Sigh'd v;ith a heavy grace,

And said, what wretch like me doth lead her life ?

I see not how my task can have an end ;

All day I draw these streaming dugs in fold,

All night mine empty husband's soft and cold.

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS 173

THE HAPPINESS OF A FLEA.

How happier is that flea

Which in thy breast doth play,

Than that pied butterfly

Which courts the flame, and in the same doth die !

That hath a light delight, 5

Poor fool ! contented only with a sight ;

When this doth sport, and swell with dearest food,

And if he die, he, knight-like, dies in blood.

OF THAT SAME.

Poor flea ! then thou didst die ;

Yet by so fair a hand,

That thus to die was Destine to command :

Thou die didst, yet didst try

A lover's last delight, 5

To vault on virgin plains, her kiss and bite :

Thou diedst, yet hast thy tomb

Between those paps, O dear and stately room !

Flea, happier far, more blest

Than Phoenix burning in his spicy nest ! 10

lina's virginity.

Who Lina weddeth, shall most happy be,

For he a maul shall find,

Though maiden none be she,

A girl, or boy, beneath her waist confin'd ;

And though bright Ceres' locks be never shorn, r,

He shall be sure this year to lack no corn.

174 MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

LOVE NAKED.

And would ye, lovers, know-
Why Love doth naked go ?
Fond, waggish, changeling lad !
Late whilst Thaumantia's voice

He wond'ring heard, it made him so rejoice, 5

That he o'erjoy'd ran mad,
And in a frantic fit threw clothes away,
And since from lip and lap hers cannot stray.

NIOBE.

Wretched Niobe I am ;

Let wretches read my case,

Not such who with a tear ne'er wet their face.

Seven daughters of me came,

And sons as many, which one fatal day 5

Orb'd mother took away.

Thus reft by heavens unjust.

Grief turn'd me stone, stone too me doth entomb ;

Which if thou dost mistrust,

Of this hard rock but ope the flinty womb, 10

And here thou shall find marble, and no dust.

CHANGE OF LOVE.

Once did I weep and groan,
Drink tears, draw loathed breath,
And all for love of one
Who did affect my death :

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS 175

But now, tlianks to disdain, a

I live reliev'd of pain ;

F'or sighs, I singing go,

I burn not as before, no, no, no, no.

WILD BEAUTY.
If all but ice thou be,
How dost thou thus me burn.
Or how at fire which thou dost raise in me,
Sith ice, thyself in streams dost thou not turn,
But rather, plaintful case ! 5^

Of ice art marble made to my disgrace ?
O miracle of love, not heard till now !
Cold ice doth burn, and hard by fire doth grow !

CONSTANT LOVE.

Time makes great states decay.

Time doth May's pomp disgrace,

Time draws deep furrows in the fairest face,

Time wisdom, force, renown doth take away,

Time doth consume the years, &

Time changes works in heaven's eternal spheres :

Vet this fierce tyrant, which doth all devour,

To lessen love in me shall have no power.

TO CHLORLS.
See, Chloris, how the clouds
Tilt in the azure lists,
And how with Stygian mists
Each horned hill his giant forehead shrouds ;

176 MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

Jove thund'reth in the air, «

The air, grown great with rain,

Now seems to bring Deucalion's days again.

I see thee quake ; come, let us home repair.

Come hide thee in mine arms,

If not for love, yet to shun greater harms. n

UPON A PORTRAIT.
The goddess that in Amathus doth reign,
With silver trammels,* and sapphire-colour'd eyes,
When naked from her mother's crj-stal plain
She first appear'd unto the wond'ring skies.
Or when, the golden apple to obtain, 5

Her blushing snows amazed Ida's trees.
Did never look in half so fair a guise
As she here drawn, all other ages' stain.
O God, what beauties to inflame the soul,
And hold the wildest hearts in chains of gold ! 10

Fair locks, sweet face, love's stately capitol,
Dear neck, which dost that heavenly frame up-hold :
If Virtue would to mortal eyes appear,
To ravish sense, she would your beauty wear.

UPON THAT SAME.
If heaven, the stars, and nature did her grace
With all perfections found the moon above,
And what excelleth in this lower place
Did place in her, to breed a world of love ;

* Trammels : nets. So Spenser : —

" Her golden locks she roundly did uptie
In braided trammels."

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS 177

If angels' gleams shine on her fairest face, 5

Which make heaven's joy on earth the gazer

prove,
And her bright eyes, the orbs which beauty move,
Do glance like Phoebus in his glorious race ;
What pencil paint, what colour to the sight
So sweet a shape can show ? The blushing mom 10
The red must lend, the milky-way the white,
And night the stars which her rich crown adorn,
To draw her right ; but then, that all agree,
The heaven the table, Zeuxis Jove must be.

UPON THAT SAME, DRAWN WITH A PANSY.

When with brave art the curious painter drew
This heavenly shape, the hand why made he bear
With golden veins that flower of purple hue,
Which follows on the planet of the year ?
Was it to show how in our hemisphere 5

Like him she shines ; nay, that effects more true
Of power and wonder do in her appear,
Whilst he but flowers, she doth brave minds sub-
due?
Or would he else to virtue's glorious light
Her constant course make known ; or is it he 10

Doth parallel her bliss with Clytia's plight?
Right so ; and thus, he reading in her eye
Some woful lover's end, to grace his grave,
For cypress tree this mourning flower her gave.

VOL. I. M

178 MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

UPON THAT SAME.

If sight be not beguil'd

And eyes right play their part,

This flower is not of art,

But is fair nature's child :

And though, when Phoebus from us is exil'd,

She doth not lock her leaves, his loss to moan,

No wonder, earth hath now more suns than one.

THIRSIS IN DISPRAISE OF BEAUTY.

That which so much the doating world doth prize,
Fond ladies' only care and sole delight,
Soon-fading beauty, which of hues doth rise,
Is but an abject let of nature's might :
Most woful wretch, whom shining hair and eyes 5
Lead to love's dungeon, traitor'd by a sight,
Most woful ; for he might with greater ease
Heirs portals enter, and pale death appease.

As in delicious meads beneath the flowers,
And the most wholesome herbs that May can show, 10
In crystal curls the speckled serpent lowers ;
As in the apple, which most fair doth grow,
The rotten worm is clos'd, which it devours ;
As in gilt cups with Gnossian wine which flow,
Oft poison pompously doth hide its sours : 15

So lewdness, falsehood, mischief them advance,
Clad with the pleasant rays of beauty's glance.

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS 179

Good thence is chas'd where beauty doth appear,

Mild lowliness with pity from it fly ;

Where beauty reigns, as in their proper sphere, 20

Ingratitude, disdain, pride, all descry ;

The flower and fruit which virtue's tree should bear.

With her bad shadow beauty maketh die :
Beauty a monster is, a monster hurl'd
From angry heaven, to scourge this lower world. 25

As fruits which are unripe, and sour of taste,
To be confect'd more fit than sweet we prove,
For sweet, in spite of care, themselves will waste,
When they, long kept, the appetite do move ;
So in the sweetness of his nectar, Love 30

The foul confects, and seasons for his feast :
Sour is far better which we sw^eet may make,
Than sweet which sweeter sweetness will not take.

Foul may my lady be, and may her nose,
A Teneriffe, give umbrage to her chin ; sa

May her gay mouth, which she no time may close.
So wide be that the moon may turn therein ;
May eyes and teeth be made conform to those.
Eyes set by chance and white, teeth black and thin :
May all what seen is, and is hid from sight, 40

Like unto these rare parts be framed right.

I shall not fear, thus though she stray alone.

That others her pursue, entice, admire ;

And though she sometime counterfeit a groan,

I shall not think her heart feels uncouth fire, 45

i8o MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

I shall not style her ruthless to my moan,
Nor proud, disdainful, wayv/ard to desire :

Her thoughts with mine will hold an equal line,
I shall be hers, and she shall all be mine.

EURYMEDON'S PRAISE OF MIRA.

Gem of the mountains, glory of our plains,
Rare miracle of nature and of love,
Sweet Atlas, who all beauty's heavens sustains,
No, beauty's heaven, where all lier wonders move,
The sun from east to west who all doth see, 5

Ont his low globe sees nothing like to thee.

One Phoenix only liv'd ere thou wast born,

And earth but did one queen of love admire ;

Three Graces only did the world adorn,

But thrice three Muses sung to Phoebus' lyre : 10

Two Phoenixes be now, love's queens are two,
Four Graces, Muses ten, all made by you !

For those perfections which the bounteous heaven
To diverse worlds in diverse times assign'd,
With thousands more, to thee at once were given, 15
Thy body fair, more fair they made thy mind ;
And that thy like no age should more behold,
When thou wast fram'd they after brake the mould.

Sweet are the blushes on thy face which shine,
Sweet are the flames which sparkle from thine eyes, 2«

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS iSi

Sweet are his torments who for thee doth pine,
Most sweet his death for thee who sweetly dies,
For if he die, he dies not by annoy,
But too much sweetness and abundant joy.

What are my slender lays to show thy worth ? 25

How can base words a thing so high make known ?

So wooden globes bright stars to us set forth ;

So in a crystal is sun's beauty shown :

More of thy praises if my muse should write,
More love and pity must the same indite. 30

THAUMANTIA AT THE DEPARTURE OF IDMON.

Fair Dian, from the height

Of heaven's first orb who cheer'st this lower place,

Hide now from me thy light,

And, pitying my case,

vSpread with a scarf of clouds thy blushing face. 5

Come with your doleful songs,

Night's sable birds, which plain when others sleep,

Come, solemnize my wrongs.

And consort to me keep,

Sith heaven, earth, hell, are set to cause me weep. 10

This grief yet I could bear.

If now by absence I were only pin'd ;

But, ah ! worse evil I fear.

Men absent prove unkind,

And change, unconstant like the moon, their mind, is

i82 MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS

If thought had so much power

Of thy departure, that it could me slay,

How will that ugly hour

My feeble sense dismay,

Farewell, sweet heart, when I shall hear thee say! 20

Dear life, sith thou must go,

Take all my joy and comfort hence with thee,

And leave with me thy woe,

Which, until I thee see.

Nor time, nor place, nor change shall take from me. -'s

ERYCINE AT THE DEPARTURE OF ALEXIS.

And wilt thou then, Alexis mine, depart.
And leave these flow'ry meads and crystal streams,
These hills as green as great with gold and gems,
Which court thee with rich treasure in each part ?
Shall nothing hold thee, not my loyal heart.
That bursts to lose the comfort of thy beams.
Nor yet this pipe which wildest satyrs tames,
Nor lambkins' wailing, nor old Dorus' smart ?
O, ruthless shepherd ! forests strange among,
What canst thou else but fearful dangers find ?
But, ah I not thou, but honour doth me wrong ;
O cruel honour, tyrant of the mind !

This said sad Erycine, and all the flowers
Empearled, as she went, with eyes' salt showers.

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS 183

ALEXIS TO DAMON. '

The love Alexis did to Damon bear
Shall witness'd be to all the woods and plains
As singular, renown'd by neighbouring swains,
That to our relics time may trophies rear :
Those madrigals we sung amidst our flocks,
With garlands guarded from Apollo's beams,
On Ochills whiles, whiles near Bodotria's streams,
Are registrate by echoes in the rocks.
Of foreign shepherds bent to try the states.
Though I. world's guest, a vagabond do stray,
Thou mayst that store which I esteem survey.
As best acquainted with my soul's conceits :
Whatever fate heavens have for me design'd,
I trust thee with the treasure of my mind.

* Written by Sir William Alexander.

FORTH FEASTING:

A PANEGYRIC TO THE KING'S MOST
EXCELLENT MAJESTY

Fhunina seiisemnt ipsa

TO HIS SACRED MAJESTY

[From the Muses' WelcOiME to King James
Edinburgh, mdcxviii.]

Tfiti this storm of joy and pompous throng,
This nymph, great King, come ever thee so ncai'
That thy harmonious ears her acce7its hear.
Give pardon to her hoarse and lowly song:
Fain would she trophies to thy virtties rear.
But for this stately task she is not strong.
And her defects her high attempts do wrong,
Yet as she could she makes thy worth appear
So in a map is shown this flowery place.
So wrought in arras by a virgin^ s hand.
With heaven and blazing stars doth Atlas standi
So drawn by charcoal is Narcissus' face.
She may Aurora be to some bright stm.
Which viay perfect the day by her begun.

1S7

FORTH FEASTING

What blust'ring noise now interrupts my sleep,

^\^lat echoing shouts thus cleave my crystal deep,

And call me hence from out my wat'ry court ?

What melody, what sounds of joy and sport.

Be these here hurl'd from ev'ry neighbour spring? 5

With what loud rumours do the mountains ring.

Which in unusual pomp on tip-toes stand,

And, full of wonder, overlook the land ?

Whence come these glitt'ring throngs, these meteors

bright,

This golden people set unto my sight ? lo

Whence doth this praise, applause, and love arise ?

What load-star eastward draweth thus all eyes ?

And do I wake, or have some dreams conspir'd

To mock my sense with shadows much desir'd ?

Stare I that living face, see I those looks, is

Which with delight wont to amaze my brooks?

Do I behold that worth, that man divine.

This age's glory, by these banks of mine ?

Then is it true, what long I wish'd in vain.

That my much-loving prince is come again? 20

So unto them whose zenith is the pole.

When six black months are past, the sun doth roll :
189

190 FORTH FEASTING

So after tempest to sea-tossed wights

Fair Helen's brothers show their cheering lights :

So comes Arabia's marvel * from her woods, 2.5

And far, far off is seen by Memphis' floods ;

The feather'd sylvans cloud-like by her fly,

And with applauding clangours beat the sky ;

Nile wonders, Scrap's priests entranced rave,

And in Mygdonian stone her shape engrave, 30

In golden leaves write down the joyful time

In which Apollo's bird came to their clime.

Let mother earth now deckt with flowers be seen,
And sweet-breath'd zephyrs curl the meadows green,
Let heavens weep rubies in a crimson shower, 35

Such as on Indies' shores they use to pour,
Or with that golden storm the fields adorn,
Which Jove rain'd when his blue-eyed maid was

born.
May never hours the web of day out-weave,
May never night rise from her sable cave. 40

Swell proud, my billows, faint not to declare
Your joys as ample as their causes are ;
For murmurs hoarse sound like Arion's harp,
Now delicately flat, now sweetly sharp.
And you, my nymphs, rise from your moist repair, 45
Strew all your springs and grots with lilies fair :
Some swiftest-footed get her hence and pray
Our floods and lakes come keep this holiday ;
Whate'er beneath Albania's hills do run,
Which see the rising or the setting sun, 5«

"^ The Phcenix.

FORTH FEASTING 191

Which drink stern Grampius' mists, or Ochills' snows ;
Stone-rolling Tay, Tyne tortoise-like that flows,
The pearly Don, the Dees, the fertile Spey,
Wild Nevern which doth see our longest day,
Ness smoking sulphur, Leave with mountains

crown'd, 55

Strange Lomond for his floating isles renown'd,
The Irish Rian, Ken, the silver Ayr,
The snaky Dun, the Ore with rushy hair,
The crystal-streaming Nid, loud-bellowing Clyde,
Tweed, which no more our kingdoms shall divide, co
Rank-swelling Annan, Lid with curled streams.
The Esks, the Solway where they lose their names :
To ev'ry one proclaim our joys and feasts,
Our triumphs, bid all come, and be our guests ;
.\nd as they meet in Neptune's azure hall, cs

Bid them bid sea-gods keep this festival.
This day shall by our currents be renown'd,
Our hills about shall still this day resound :
Nay, that our love more to this day appear,
Let us with it henceforth begin our year. 70

To virgins flowers, to sun-burnt earth the rain.
To mariners fair winds amidst the main,
Cool shades to pilgrims, which hot glances burn,
Please not so much, to us as thy return.
That day, dear Prince, which reft us of thy sight, rs
Day, no, but darkness, and a cloudy night.
Did freight our breasts with sighs, our eyes with tears,
Turn'd minutes in sad months, sad months in years ;
Trees left to flourish, meadows to bear flowers.
Brooks hid their heads within their sedgy bowers ; so

192 FORTH FEASTING

Fair Ceres curst our fields with barren frost,

As if again she had her daughter lost ;

The Muses left our groves, and for sweet songs

Sat sadly silent, or did weep their wrongs :

Ye knew it, meads, ye, murmuring woods, it know, 85

Hill, dales, and caves, copartners of their woe ;

And ye it know, my streams, which from iheir eyne

Oft on your glass received their pearled brine.

O Naiads dear, said they, Napyeas * fair,

O nymphs of trees, nymphs which on hills repair, so

Gone are those maiden glories, gone that state,

"Which made all eyes admire our hap of late.

As looks the heaven when never star appears,

But slow and weary shroud them in their spheres,

While Tithon's wife embosom'd by him lies, os

And world doth languish in a dreary guise ;

As looks a garden of its beauty spoil'd ;

As \\ cod in winter by rough Boreas foil'd ;

As portraits raz'd of colours use to be ;

So look'd these abject bounds depriv'd of thee. .-oc-

While as my rills enjoy'd thy royal gleams,
They did not envy Tiber's haughty streams.
Nor wealthy Tagus with his golden ore,
Nor clear Hydaspes, which on pearls doth roar,
Empamper'd Gange, that sees the sun new born, 105
Nor AcheloUs with his flowery horn,^
Nor floods which near Elysian fields do fall ;
For why ? — thy sight did sei-ve to them for all.

* Napseas : nymphs of the vales.
+ Acheloiis' horn : the cornucopia.

FORTH FEASTING

193

No place there is so desert, so alone,
Even from the frozen to the torrid zone, iw

From flaming Hecla to great Quincy's Lake,
WTiich thine abode could not most happy make.
All those perfections, which by bounteous Heaven
To diverse worlds in diverse times were given,
The starry senate pour'd at once on thee, 115

That thou exemplar might'st to others be.

Thy life was kept till the three sisters spun
Their threads of gold, and then it was begun.
With curled clouds when skies do look most fair.
And no disordered blasts disturb the air ; i3e

When lilies do them deck in azure gowns,
And new-born roses blush with golden crowns ;
To bode how calm we under thee should live.
What halcyonean days thy reign should give.
And to two flowery diadems thy right, 125

The heavens thee made a partner of the light.
Scarce wast thou born, when, join'd in friendly

bands,
Two mortal foes with other clasped hands.
With virtue fortime strove, which most should grace
Thy place for thee, thee for so high a place ; iso

One vow'd thy sacred breast not to forsake,
The other on thee not to turn her back,
And that thou more her love*s effects might'st feel.
For thee she rent her sail, and broke her wheel.

When years thee vigour gave, O then how clear i»
Did smother'd sparkles in bright flames appear 1
Amongst the woods to force a flying hart,
To pierce the mountain wolf with feather'd dart,

VOL. I. N

194

FORTH FEASTING

See falcons climb the clouds, the fox ensnare,
Outrun the wind-outrunning doedal hare, iw

To loose a trampling steed alongst a plain,
And in meand'ring gyres him bring again.
The press thee making place, were vulgar things ;
In admiration's air, on glory's wings,
O ! thou far from the common pitch didst rise, ]«

With thy designs to dazzle envy's eyes :
Thou sought'st to know this All's eternal source,
Of ever-turning heavens the restless course.
Their fixed eyes, their lights which wand'ring run,
Whence moon her silver hath, his gold the sun ; iso
If destine be or no, if planets can
By fierce aspects force the free-will of man ;
The light and spiring fire, the liquid air,
The flaming dragons, comets with red hair,
Heaven's tilting lances, artillery, and bow, 155

Loud-sounding trumpets, darts of hail and snow,
The roaring element with people dumb,
The earth, with what conceiv'd is in her womb,
What on her moves, were set unto thy sight,
Till thou didst find their causes, essence, might : leo
But unto nought thou so thy mind didst strain.
As to be read in man, and learn to reign,
To know the weight and Atlas of a crown.
To spare the humble, proudlings pester down.
When from those piercing cares which thrones in-
vest, 168
As thorns the rose, thou wearied wouldst thee rest,
With lute in hand, full of celestial fire,
To the Pierian groves thou didst retire :

FORTH FEASTING 195

There, garlanded with all Urania's flowers,

In sw eeter lays than builded Thebes' towers, i70

Or them which chami'd the dolphins in the main,

Or which did call Eur}-dice again,

Thou sung'st away the hours, till from their sphere

Stars seem'd to shoot, thy melody to hear.

The god with golden hair, the sister maids, i76

Left nymphal Helicon, their Tempe's shades.

To see thine isle, here lost their native tongue,

And in thy world-divided language sung.

WTio of thine after-age can count the deeds,
With all that fame in time's huge annals reads, I80
How by example more than any law,
This people fierce thou didst to goodness draw.
How while the neighbour worlds, tous'd by the Fates,
So many Phaethons had in their states,
Which turn'd in heedless flames their burnish'd
thrones, igs

Thou, as enspher'd, keep'dst temperate thy zones ;
In Afric shores the sands that ebb and flow,
The speckled flowers in unshorn meads that grow,
He sure may count, with all the waves that meet
To wash the Mauritanian Atlas' feet. 190

Though thou were not a crowned king by birth,
Thy worth deserves the richest crown on earth.
Search this half-sphere and the opposite ground,
Where is such wit and bounty to be found ?
As into silent night, when near the bear 195

The virgin huntress shines at full most clear.
And strives to match her brother's golden light.
The host of stars doth vanish in her sight ;

196 FORTH FEASTING

Arcturus dies, cool'd is the lion's ire,
Po burns no more with Phaethontal fire ; aoo

Orion faints to see his arms grow black,
And that his blazing sword he now doth lack :
So Europe's lights, all bright in their degree.
Lose all their lustre paragon'd with thee.
By just descent thou from more kings dost shine ao»
Than many can name men in all their line :
What most they toil to find, and finding hold.
Thou scornest, orient gems and flatt'ring gold ;
Esteeming treasure surer in men's breasts
Than when immur'd with marble, clos'd in chests. 210
No stormy passions do disturb thy mind.
No mists of greatness ever could thee blind :
Who yet hath been so meek ? Thou life didst give
To them who did repine to see thee live.
What prince bygoodness hath such kingdoms gain'd ? 216
Who hath so long his people's peace maintained ?
Their swords are turn'd in scythes, in culters spears,
Some giant post their antique armour bears :
Now, where the wounded knight his life did bleed,
The wanton swain sits piping on a reed ; 2»

And where the cannon did Jove's thunder scorn.
The gaudy huntsman winds his shrill-tun'd horn ;
Her green locks Ceres without fear doth dye,
The pilgrim safely in the shade doth lie,
Both Pan and Pales careless keep their flocks, 228

Seas have no dangers save the winds and rocks :
Thou art this isle's palladium, neither can,
While thou art kept, it be o'erthrown by man.
Let others boast of blood and spoils of foes,

FORTH FEASTING

197

Fierce rapines, murders, Iliads of woes, 'js»

Of hated pomp, and trophies reared fair,

Gore-spangled ensigns streaming in the air,

Count how they make the Scythian them adore,

The Gaditan, the soldier of Aurore ;

Unhappy vauntry ! to enlarge their bounds, isjis

Which charge themselves with cares, their friends with

wounds.
Which have no law to their ambitious will.
But, man-plagues, born are human blood to spill :
Thou a true victor art, sent from above,
What others strain by force to gain by love ; 240

World-wand'ring fame this praise to thee imparts,
To be the only monarch of all hearts.
They many fear who are of many fear'd.
And kingdoms got by wrongs by wrongs are tear'd,
Such thrones as blood doth raise, blood throweth
down ; mh

No guard so sure as love unto a crown.

Eye of our western world, Mars-daunting King,
With whose renown the earth's seven climates ring,
Thy deeds not only claim these diadems,
To which Thame, Liffey, Tay, subject their streams, 250
But to thy virtues rare, and gifts, is due
All that the planet of the year doth view :
Sure, if the world above did want a prince,
The world above to it would take thee hence.

That murder, rapine, lust, are fled to hell, I'ss

And in their rooms with us the Graces dwell,
That honour more than riches men respect,
That worthiness than gold doth more effect.

198 FORTH FEASTING

That piety unmasked shows her face,

That innocency keeps with power her place, xo

That long-exil'd Astrea leaves the heaven,

And useth right her sword, her weights holds even,

That the Saturnian world is come again,

Are wish'd effects of thy most happy reign.

That daily peace, love, truth, delights increase, 235

And discord, hate, fraud, with encumbers cease,

That men use strength not to shed others' blood,

But use their strength now to do other good,

That fury is enchain'd, disarmed wrath,

That, save by nature's hand, there is no death, 270

That late grim foes like brothers other love.

That vultures prey not on the harmless dove,

That wolves with lambs do friendship entertain,

Are wish'd effects of thy most happy reign.

That towns increase, that ruined temples rise, 275

And their wind-moving vanes plant in the skies,

That ignorance and sloth hence run away,

That buried arts now rouse them to the day.

That Hyperion, far beyond his bed

Doth see our lions ramp, our roses spread, -so

That Iber courts us, Tiber not us charms,

That Rhine with hence-brought beams his bosom

warms,
That evil us fear, and good us do maintain,
Are wish'd effects of thy most happy reign.

O virtue's pattern, glory of our times, 2^

Sent of past days to expiate the crimes,
Great King, but better far than thou art great,
"Whom state not honours, but who honours state ;

FORTH FEASTING 199

By wonder born, by wonder first instalVd,

By wonder after to new kingdoms call'd, l'm

Young, kept by wonder near home-bred alarms,

Old, sav'd by wonder from pale traitors' harms,

To be for this thy reign which wonders brings,

A king of wonder, wonder unto kings I

If Pict, Dane, Norman thy smooth yoke had seen, 295

Pict, Dane, and Norman had thy subjects been :

If Brutus knew the bliss thy rule doth give.

Even Brutus joy would under thee to live ;

For thou thy people dost so dearly love,

That they a father, more than prince, thee prove, soo

O days to be desir'd, age happy thrice,
If ye your heaven-sent good could duly prize !
But ye, half-palsy-sick, think never right
Of what ye hold, till it be from your sight,
Prize only summer's sweet and musked breath, 305
When armed winters threaten you with death ;
In pallid sickness do esteem of health,
And by sad poverty discern of wealth.
I see an age when after many years,
And revolutions of the slow-pac'd spheres, 310

These days shall be to other far esteem'd.
And like Augustus' palmy reign be deem'd.
The names of Arthur's fabulous paladins,
Grav'n in time's surly brows in wrinkled lines,
Of Henrys, Edwards, famous for their fights, cis

Their neighbour conquests, orders new of knights,
Shall by this prince's name be past as far
As meteors are by the Idalian star. *

* The Idalian star : Venus.

200 FORTH FEASTING

If grey-hair'd Proteus' songs the truth not miss,
And grey-hair'd Proteus oft a prophet is, sl"*

There is a land hence distant many miles,
Outreaching fiction and Atlantic isles,
Which, homelings, from this little world we name,
That shall emblazon with strange rites his fame,
Shall raise him statues all of purest gold, ;;25

Such as men gave unto the gods of old,
Name by him fanes, proud palaces, and towns.
With some great flood, which most their fields renowns.
This is that king who should make right each wrong,
Of whom the bards and mystic sibyls sung, :w»

The man long promis'd, by whose glorious reign
This isle should yet her ancient name regain,
And more of Fortunate deserve the style
Than those where heavens with double summers smile.
Run on, great Prince, thy course in glory^s way, 335
The end the life, the evening crowns the day ;
Heap worth on worth, and strongly soar above
Those heights which made the world thee first to love ;
Surmount thyself, and make thine actions past
Be but as gleams or lightnings of thy last, ^40

Let them exceed them of thy younger time,
As far as autumn doth the flowery prime.
Through this thy empire range, like world's bright eye,
That once each year surveys all earth and sky,
Now glances on the slow and resty bears, ;;45

Then turns to dry the weeping Auster's tears,
Just unto both the poles, and moveth even
In the infigur'd circle of the heaven.
O ! long long haunt these bounds, which by thy sight

FORTH FEASTING 201

Have now regain'd their former heat and light ! 350

Here grow green woods, here silver brooks do glide,

Here meadows stretch them out with painted pride,

Embroid'ring all the banks ; here hills aspire

To crown their heads with the ethereal fire ;

Hills, bulwarks of our freedom, giant walls, :M5

Which never fremdling's slight nor sword made thralls;

Each circling flood to Thetis tribute pays.

Men here, in health, outlive old Nestor's days ;

Grim Saturn yet amongst our rocks remains,

Bound in our caves with many metal'd chains ; sso

Bulls haunt our shades like Leda's lover white.

Which yet might breed Pasiphae delight ;

Our flocks fair fleeces bear, with which for sport

Endymion of old the moon did court,

High-palmed harts amidst our forests run, ^jta

And, not impaled, the deep mouth'd hounds do shun ;

The rough-foot hare him in our bushes shrouds,

And long-wing'd hawks do perch amidst our clouds.

The wanton wood-nymphs of the verdant spring

Blue, golden, purple flowers shall to thee bring, sro

Pomona's fruits the panisks, * Thetis' girls

Thy Thule's amber, with the ocean pearls ;

The Tritons, herdsmen of the glassy field,

Shall give thee what far-distant shores can yield.

The Serean fleeces, Erythrean gems, 37s

Vast Plata's silver, gold of Peru streams,

Antarctic parrots, Ethiopian plumes,

Sabcean odours, myrrh, and sweet perfumes.

* Panisks : rural divinities ; fauns.

202 FORTH FEASTINO

And I myself, wrapt in a watchet gown,
Of reeds and lilies on my head a crown,
Shall incense to thee burn, green altars raise,
And yearly sing due paeans to thy praise.

Ah ! why should Isis only see thee shine ?
Is not thy Forth as well as Isis thine ?
Though Isis vaunt she hath more wealth in store,
Let it suffice thy Forth doth love thee more :
Though she for beauty may compare with Seine,
For swans and sea-nymphs with imperial Rhine,
Yet in the title may be claim'd in thee.
Nor she, nor all the world, can match with me.
Now when, by honour drawn, thou shalt away
To her already jealous of thy stay,
When in her amorous arms she doth thee fold.
And dries thy dewy hairs with hers of gold.
Much questioning of thy fare, much of thy sport,
Much of thine absence, long, howe'er so short,
And chides perhaps thy coming to the north.
Loathe not to think on thy much -loving Forth.
O ! love these bounds, where of thy royal stem
More than an hundred wore a diadem.
So ever gold and bays thy brows adorn,
So never time may see thy race outworn,
So of thine own still may'st thou be desir'd,
Of strangers fear'd, redoubted, and admir'd ;
So memory thee praise, so precious hours
May character thy name in starry flowers ;
So may thy high exploits at last make even
With earth thy empire, glory with the heaven.

NOTES

NOTES TO VOLUME I.

Tears on the Death of Mceliades (p. 5).

I HAVE followed the text given in the edition of
Drummond's Foetus published in 1616, which, being
the last published daring his lifetime, may be taken
as representing his final intention. It differs in some
slight particulars from that of the first edition. The
latter gives, for example, a different version of the
couplet which concludes several of the paragraphs
after the manner of a refrain. In the first edition
we find : —

" Meliades sweet courtly nymphs deplore
From ruddy Hesp'rus' rising to Aurore. "

Brave Bourbon (line 477. The famous Constable
de Bourbon, born in I4?9. His name is not very
happily introduced by Drummond in this connection,
for although his bravery and his military abilities are
unquestioned, he is principally remembered by his
achievements in arms against his native country. The
story of the reproach which he received from the

206 NOTES

dying Bayard is familiar to every one. Bourbon ended
his life as a military adventurer. He led a merce-
nary army against Rome, and got his death-wound
in an assault upon the city on the 6th of May 1527.
Rome, nevertheless, was captured and pillaged by
the besiegers.

She zvhose naine appals Both Titan's goldeti bowers
(lines 62-63). "She" is Rome. "Titan's golden
bowers" are the East, where he rises, and the West,
where he sets. Sir William Alexander has this image
in the sixteenth sonnet of his Atirora : —

*' I with her praise both Titan's bowers should fill"

Flowers^ which once were kings (line 122). Hya-
cinth, narcissus, and anemone, flowers which sprang
from the blood of the princes Hyacinthus, Narcissus,
and Adonis.

O hyacijtths, for aye your A I keep still (line
127). According to the poets, this flower, which
sprang from the blood of Hyacinthus, bore upon
its leaves marks resembling the Greek exclamation
of woe — AI.

And sad Electra^ s sisters which still iveep (line 140).
Electra was one of the seven Pleiades, the daughters
of Atlas and Pleione. They made away with them-
selves for sorrow at the death of their sisters, the
Hyades, and were changed into the constellation
which bears their name. In the first edition this
line reads as follows : —

'* And soft-eyed Pleiades which still do weep."

NOTES 207

vSONNET (p. 13).

In whom, save death, nought mortal was at all (line
14). This conceit is borrowed from Guarini (Madrigal
133. Rime: Venice, 159S): —

Ne di mortal havesti altro, che morte.

This sonnet originally appeared in the Mausoleum,
or, The Choisest Flowres of the Epitaphs, written on the
Death of the never-too-much la?nented Prince Henrie^
Edinburgh, 161 3.

POEMS.— THE FIRST PART

To THE Author (p. 19).

" Parthenius," the author of this very graceful com-
mendatory sonnet, is Sir William Alexander.

Sonnet VI. (p. 26).

Guarini, in his twenty-seventh sonnet, celebrates
his mistress's beauty in a similar manner, cataloguing
the wonders of earth and heaven, and preferring to
them all the divina luce of her countenance ; but the
resemblance in particulars is very slight.

Sonnet VII. (p. 27).

This sonnet is largely Platonic, and refers princi-
pally to the Phcedrus. In the intelligible world abide
the Ideas of all things, eternal, immutable, in occult
union. Now the winged souls, accompanying the

2o8 NOTES

Gods, and possessing themselves a deiform nature,
perceive according to their ability, as Plotinus asserts,
this intelligible world and what belongs to it ; though
the same spectacle is not received by each. But the
soul, possessing also a nature contrary to the deiform
(Plato's mortal steed), falls into generation, as into
darkness and oblivion, and slowly regains the know-
ledge of what it had seen in the intelligible world, by
recognising in corporeal objects the Ideas of which
they participate. For human knowledge is wholly of
the nature of an awakening and a recollection. Thus
the sight of a beautiful object awakens in the soul a
reminiscence of the Idea, the Beautiful itself, which
in its winged condition it beheld, and it is alone by
virtue of this reminiscence — by virtue, that is, of the
idea of beauty which it retains in itself — that it is
capable of recognising the beautiful in nature. But
Drummond, in recording that he "elsewhere saw the
idea of ikai /cue," was possibly referring unwittingly
tc the experience of a previous incarnation ; inasmuch
as Ideas, " the exemplary causes of things," are of the
permanent alone, but not of the temporary. " Every
image formed by nature," says Plotinus, " lasts as long
as its archetype remains" {Emiead. V., Lib. VIII. 12).
Now the visible world, being an image of the intel-
ligiljle world, is equally enduring ; but matter is ever
flowing, and that which participates of matter is there-
fore subject to continual change. And therefore the
eternal Idea is constantly reflected in the whole of
nature, but not uniformly in the particular parts of
nature.

NOTES 209

JVo^ ioitd with aught to reason doth rebel (line 8).
I.e., subsisting according to intellect, or pure reason ;
not wearied with the encumbrance of body. Professor
Masson reads "soiled" for "toiled" {Drummond of
Hawthorjidcn, p. 47), but I think unnecessarily.

Sonnet VIII. (p. 28).

This exquisite sonnet is partly borrowed from
Petrarch, Compare the following lines (Petrarch,
Part I., Son. 131) :—

" Or, che 'I ciel e la terra e '1 vento tace,
E le fere e gli augelli il sonno affrena,
Notte '1 carro stellato in giro mena,
E nel suo letto il mar senz' onda giace ;
Veggio, penso, ardo, piango ; e chi mi sface,
Sempre m' e innanzi per mia dolce pena."

Sonnet IX. (p. 29).

Evidently suggested by the following sonnet of
Marino [Rime di Gio. Battisia Marino, Venice, 1602 :
Parti., p. 31):—

" O del silentio figlio, e dela Notte,
Padre di vaghe imaginate forme,
Sonno gentil, per le cui tacit' orme
Son I'alme al ciel d'Amor spesso condotte ;
Hor, che 'n grembo ale lievi ombre interrotte
Ogni cor (fuor che '1 mio) riposa, e dorme,
L'llerebo oscuro, al mio pensier conforme,
Lascia ti prego, e le Cimerie grotte,
K vien col dolce tuo tranquillo oblio,
E col bel volto, in ch' io mirar m' appago,

VOL, I. O

210 NOTES

A consolar il vedovo desio.
Che, se 'n te la sembianza, onde son vago,
Non m' e dato goder, godro pur' io
Dela morte, che bramo, almen I'imago."

The expression "image of death," applied to sleep,
is borrowed from Cicero : " Habes somnum imaginem
mortis, eamque quotidie induis" ( Tusculanarum Quces-
iionum Lib. I., c. 38). Drummond again uses this
figure in the second part of his Poems (Song II.,
line 14). So Sidney, in the third book of Arcadia : —

" And mother earth, now clad in mourning weeds, did

breathe
A dull desire to kiss the image of our death."

Compare also with this sonnet, Astrophel and Stella^
Sonnet 39.

Song I. (p. 32).

This graceful poem is rich in pleasant reminiscences
of Sidney.

Here Adon blusJid, &c. (lines 55-58). Adonis is
the rose (compare Bion's first Idyll, and Drummond's
The Rose, p. 169). Clytie is the heliotrope (Ovid.
Aletay/i., Lib. IV.) ; " that sweet boy" is Hyacinthus
{ibid., Lib. XIII.).

For those harmonious sounds to Jove are given. By
the swift touches of the nijie-stritig'd heaven (lines
79-80). An allusion to the Pythagorean doctrine
of the music of the spheres.

Or pearls that shining shell is calVd their mother
(line 108). Sidney has this image in the verses

NOTES 211

which Amphialus causes to be sung unto Philoclea
{Arcadia, Book III.) :—

" A nymph that did excel as far
All things that erst I saw, as orient pearls exceed
That which their mother hight,"

Or roses ^u/es infield of lilies borne (line 1 1 8). So
Sidney writes {Astrophel and Stella, Sonnet 13) of
Stella's face : —

"Where roses gules are borne in silver field."

There all about, as brooks them sport at leisure. Sec.
(lines 1 31-133). Compare the song which Zelmane
makes upon the beauty of Philoclea bathing {Arcadia,
Book II.):—

" There fall those sapphire-coloured brooks,
Which conduit-like with curious crooks.
Sweet islands make in that sweet land."

But Drummond's entire description of the bathing
nymph (lines 109-136) may well be compared with
this Song to Philoclea, and was perhaps suggested
by it.

IVitk storm-like course, a sumptuoiis chariot rushes
(line 172). So in the Song of Amphialus {Arcadia,
Book III.) :—

"A chariot . . .
Whose storm-like course staid not till hard by me
it bided."

And ease mine eyes with briny tribute charged, &c.

212 NOTES

(lines 240-244). Compare Zelmane's verses by the
river Ladon {Atcadia, Book II.) : —

" Over these brooks trusting to ease mine eyes
(Mine eyes even great in labour with their tears)
I laid my face ; my face wherein there lies
Clusters of clouds which no sun ever clears.''

Sonnet XII. (p. 41).

The first four lines of this sonnet were no doubt
suggested by the following lines of Petrarch (Part II.,
Son. 6) : —

" Datemi pace, o duri miei pensieri :
Non basta ben, ch' Amor, Fortuna e Morte,
Mi fanno guerra intomo, e 'n su le porte,
Senza trovarmi dentro altri guerrieri?"

But the two sonnets have no further resemblance.

Madrigal I. (p. 42).

Translated from the following madrigal by Marino
(Rimey Part 11. , p. 72) :—

*' Fabro dela mia morte
Sembr' io vevme ingegnoso,
Che intento al proprio mal mai non riposo.
Dele caduche foglie
D'una vana speranza mi nodrisco :
E varie fila ordisco
Di pensier, di desiri insieme attorte.
Cosl lasso a me stesso
Prigion non sol, ma sepoltura intesso."

NOTES

Sextain I. (p. 43).

Compare the following stanzas of Petrarch (Pan I.,
Sestina 7) : —

*' Non ha tanti animali il mar fra I'onde,
Ne lassu sopra 'I cerchio della luna
Vide mai tante stelle alcuna notte,
Ne tanti augelli albergan per li boschi,
Ne tant' erbe ebbe mai campo ne piaggia,
Quant' ha '1 mio cor pensier ciascuna sera.

" Di di in di spero omai I'ultima sera
Che scevri in me dal vivo terren I'onde,
E mi lasci dormir in qualche piaggia ;
Che tanti affanni uom mai sotto la luna
Non sofferse quant' io : sannolsi i boschi,
Che sol vo ricercando giorno e notte.

" I' non ebbi giammai tranquilla notte,
Ma sospirando andai mattino e sera,
Poi ch' Amor femmi un cittadin de' boschi.
Ben fia, in prima ch' i' posi, il mar sen/.' onde,
E la sua luce avra '1 sol dalla luna,
E i fior d' April morranno in ogni piaggia."

Sonnet XIV, (p. 46).

Petrarch has a similar catalogue of rivers in the first
four lines of one of his sonnets : " Non Tesin, P6,
Varo, Arno, Adige e Tebro," &c. (Part I., Son. 116).
The remainder of his sonnet, however, bears no re-
semblance to Drummond's.

214 NOTES

Sonnet XVI. (p. 48).

Sweet brook, in whose clear crystal I mine eyes
Have oft seen great in labour of their tears (lines I-2).
Another reminiscence of the verses, already quoted,
which Zelmane wrote in the sand of Ladon {Arcadia^
Book II.).

Sonnet XVII. (p. 49).

Those flow'' IS are spread which names of princes bear
(line 7). I.e., hyacinth and narcissus.

Sonnet XVIII. (p. 50).

Compare Astrophel and Stella, Sonnets 7 and 20.
The name Auristella, which appears nowhere else in
Drummond's poems, was probably chosen not without
a thought of Sidney's mistress.

Madrigal II. (p. 51).

Translated, with some variation, from the following
madrigal by Tasso [Scielta delle Rime del Sig. Tof'qicato
Tasso: Ferrara, 1582: Part I., p. 49) : —

'• Al vostro dolce azurro
Ceda, o luci serene,

Qual piu bel negro Italia in pregio tiene.
Occhi, cielo d'amore,
Sole di questo core,

Sono gli altri appo voi notte et inferno.
Azurro e '1 cielo eterno,
E quel, ch' e bello, il bello ha sol da lui,
Ei bello e sol, perch' assomiglia a vui."

NOTES 215

Sonnet XIX. (p. 52).

Marino has a sonnet, similar in motive {Rtjne, 1602 :
Part I., p. 28), to which Drummond was doubtless
indebted. The only direct imitation, however, occurs
in lines 9-12 of Drummond's sonnet, with which com-
pare the following lines of Marino's : — -

" Ei novo Zeusi, al' Oriente tolto
L'oro, I'ostro al' Aurora, i raggi al Sole,
II bel crin ne figura, e gli occhi, e '1 volto."

Sonnet XXL (p. 54).

That ever Pyrrha did to i7iaid impart, &c. (lines
3-4). See Ovid's Metamorphoses, Book I.

Sonnet XXVII. (p. 61).
Compare Astrophel a?id Stella, Sonnet 90.

Sonnet XXIX. (p. 6z).

And bid them, if they would more ^inas burtt.
In Rhodope or Erymanthe me turn (lines 13-14).
Were he transformed into a snowy mountain —
Rhodope or Erymanthus — his inward fire would
convert it into a volcano.

Sonnet XXXI. (p. 65).

This sonnet is addressed, by way of warning, to
one yet inexperienced in love.

And let my rtiins for a Phare thee serve. To shun
this rock Capharean of untruth (lines lo-ii). Phare :

2l6 NOTES

Pharos or lighthouse. Caphareus was the name of a
rocky promontory of the island of Euboea. Palamedes,
the son of Nauplius, king of that island, was treacher-
ously slain by the Greeks during the siege of Troy ;
wherefore his father Nauplius, when the Grecian ships
were returning homewards, caused false beacons to
be displayed on the Capharean rock, and many were
wrecked there.

And serve no god who doth his churchmen starve
(line 12). Compare Sidney, Astrophel and Stella^
Sonnet 5 : —

" Till that good god makes church and churchman
starve."

Sonnet XXXIII. (p. 67).

Translated from the following sonnet by Tasso
{Scielta delle Rime, &c., 1582 : Part II., p. 26) :—

"Vinca fortuna homai, se sotto 11 peso
Di tante cure al fin cader conviene,
Vinca, e del mio riposo, e del mio bene
L'empio trofeo sia nel suo tempio appeso
Colei, che mille eccelsi imperi ha reso
Vili, et eguali a le piii basse arene,
Del mio male hor si vanta, e le mie pene
Conta, e me chiama da' suoi strali ofifeso.
Dunque natura, e stil cangia, perch' io
Cangio il mio riso in pianto ? Hor qual piu chiaro
Presagio uttende del mio danno eterno ?
Piangi, alma trista, piangi, e del tuo amaro
Pianto si formi un tenebroso rio,
Ch' il Cocito sia poi del nostro Inferno."

NOTES 217

Sonnet XXXIV. (p. 68).

Let great Empedodes vaunt of his deaths &c. {lines
9-10). He alludes to the fable concerning Empedocles,
the great Sicilian philosopher, who was feigned to have
cast himself into the crater of Etna, in order that his
mysterious disappearance might give rise to the report
that he was a god.

And Dcedaf s son, he narn^d the Samian streams
(line 12). Icarus, the son of Daedalus, falling into
the sea near Samos, gave to that part of the Mediter-
ranean the name of Icarian. See Ovid's Metamor-
phoses, Book VIII.

Sonnet XXXV. (p. 69).

There is no need to suppose that the dreadful com-
plaints which Drummond makes, here and elsewhere,
of his mistress's cruelty, were intended to bear any
personal application to Miss Cunningham of Barns.
He was merely following the fashion of his school, in
which such complaints formed a part of the regular
system of amatory poetry. Even the gentle Petrarch
ascribes to his Laura "un cor di tigre o d'orsa." To
the poet''s mistress, in fact, cruelty was an attribute
equally indispensable with beauty.

This sonnet is partly borrowed from the following
by Marino {Rime, 1602 : Part I., p. 76) : —

"Te I'Hiperboreo monte, o I'Arimaspe

Produsse, Elpinia, il Caucaso, o '1 Cerauno :
Te fra I'Hircane tigri, e fra le Caspe
Sol di tosco nodri Centauro o Fauno.
Non le dolci bevesti acque di Dauno ;

2i8 NOTES

Ma dela Tana il ghiaccio, o del' Idaspe :
Non tra I'agne crescesti in grembo a Cauno,
Ma in mezo dela vipera, e del' aspe.
Poich' alpestra qual fera, aspra qual' angue,
Sol delo stratio altrui sempre ti cibi,
Ne curi il tuo pastor, ch' a morte langue.
O piu crudel, che gli avoltori e i nibi,
Pasciti del mio core, e del mio sangue,
Purch' un tuo bacio anzi '1 morir delibi."

Song II. (p. 70).

Those which by Peneus' streams Did once thy heart
surprise (lines 27-28). Daphne, the beloved of Apollo,
was the daughter of the river-god Peneus. See Ovid's
Metamorphoses, Lib. I.

As thou when two thou did to Rome appear (line 30).
*' During the Consulship of Cornelius Cethegus, and
Sempronius [B.C. 204], at what time the Africane Warres
were appointed to Scipio, two Sunnes at one time were
scene in the Heavens : and the night (which is by nature
darke) appeared extraordinary light " ( Varieties, by
David Person: London, 1635 : Book V., p. 27).

Night like a drunkard reels Beyond the hills to shun
his flamitig wheels (lines 42-43). These fine lines are
borrowed, as Professor Masson has pointed out, from
Romeo and Juliet (Act IL, Sc. 3) : —

" And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels
Forth from Day's path and Titan's fiery wheels."

Sonnet XXXVI. (p. 72).

That Ionian hill (line 7). Mount Latmos, where
Endymion slept, beloved of Phoebe (the moon).

NOTES 219

Sonnet XXXVIII. (p. 74).

J^atr is Tkaumantias in her crystal gown (line 3).
Thaumantias is a name of Iris (the rainbow), as the
daughter of Thaumas (wonder). " Ad quern sic roseo
Thaumantias ore locuta est " {ALneid, IX. 5).

Chloris (Hne 9), from xKuipo^, pale-green; a name
of Flora, the goddess of flowers, as presiding over the
young vegetation of spring.

Sonnet XXXIX. (p. ^6).

Sigh, and in her fair hair yourselves enchain
(line 8). And Sidney, in a sonnet of Stella sailing
on the Thames {Astrophel and Stella, 103), has these
words of the winds : —

" In her golden hair

They did themselves (O sweetest prison !) twine."

Madrigal VI. (p. 81).

That fire this All environing (line 6). According
to the Platonists, true fire subsists in the heavens.
They say "that all heaven consists of fire, which
there predominates ; but that it also comprehends,
according to cause, the powers of the other elements,
such as the solidity and stability of earth, the con-
glutinating and uniting power of water, and the
tenuity and transparency of air" (Proclus, On the
Timccus, Book III.). But the celestial fire differs
from the grosser sublunary fire in being unburning
and vivific. Thus Pico della Mirandola says : **Ele-
mentaris [ignis] urit, ccelestis vivificat, superccelestis
amat."

220 NOTES

Sonnet XLIII. (p. 82).

Far from the madding ivorldlmg''s hoarse discords
(line 11). Possibly this verse suggested the well-
known line of Gray.

Sonnet XLVIII. (p. 89).

Like Berenice's lock that ye might shine (line 13).
Berenice was a queen of Egypt, and the wife of
Ptolemy Euergetes. During her husband's absence in
Syria, she dedicated her hair in the temple of Venus, as
an offering for his safe return. The hair subsequently
disappeared, and was said to have been changed into
the constellation known as Berenice's Hair.

Madrigal IX. (p. 96).

Myself so to deceive^ With Jong- shut eyes I shun the
irksome light (lines 6-7). Sanazzaro has the same
fancy in his twelfth Canzone, wherein he also records
the appearance of his mistress to him in a dream
(Opere volgari dijacopo Sanazzaro, Padova, 1 723) : —

" Ond' io per ingannarme
Lungo spazio non volsigli occhi aprire.'"'

There is no further resemblance, however.

Sonnet LIV. (p. 98).

That bad crafts7}ian (line 2). Perillus, who made
for Phalaris, tyrant of Agrigentum, the brazen bull,
wherein men were enclosed and consumed with fire :
of whose victims Perillus was himself the first.

NOTES 3^1

T/ie Phlegrctan plain (line 6). On the burning
plain of Phlegra the earth-born giants fought with the
gods, who overcame them by the aid of Hercules.

Sonnet LV. (p. loo).

An imitation, with considerable variations, of the
following sonnet by Petrarch (Part I., Son. 113) : —

" Pommi ove '1 Sol uccide i fiori e I'erba ;
O dove vince lui '1 ghiaccio e la neve :
Pommi ov' e '1 carro suo temprato e leve ;
Ed ov' e chi eel rende, o chi eel serba :
Pomm' in umil fortuna, od in superba ;
Al dolce aere sereno, al fosco e greve :
Pommi alia notte ; al di lungo ed al breve ;
Alia matura etate, od all' acerba :
Pomm' in cielo, od in terra, od in abisso ;
In alto poggio ; in valle ima e palustre ;
Libero spirto, od a' suoi membri affisso :
Pommi con fama oscura, o con illustre :
Saro qual fui : vivro com' io son visso,
Continuando il mio sospir trilustre."

" Trilustre" indicates that Petrarch had been in love
with Laura for fifteen years when he wrote this
sonnet.

In Puttenham's Arte of English Poesie (Lib. III.
c. 19), a translation of this sonnet by Sir Thomas
Wyatt is quoted as an illustration of the figure which
the author terms Merismus, or the Distributor.

NOTES

POEMS.— THE SECOND PART.

Sonnet I. (p. loi).

Partly translated from the following sonnet of
Marino {Rivie, Part I., p. 146) : —

'* O d'humano splendor breve baleno :
Ecco e pur (lasso) in apparir sparita
L'alma mia luce, e di quagiii partita
Per far I'eterno di vie piii sereno.
Quella, che resse di mia vita il freno,
Cola poggiata, ond' era dianzi uscita,
Et al gran Sol, di cui fu raggio, unita,
II del di gloria, e me di doglia ha pieno.
Ma tu (se pur di la cose mortali
Lice mirar, dove si gode, e regna)
Mira i miei pianti ale tue gioie eguali :
E come, ove volasti, anima degna,
La mia, per teco unirsi, aperte ha I'ali,
E d'uscir con ie lagrime s'ingegna."

That sun (line 7). Intellect, froiTi which the soul
proceeds, and to which she returns.

Sonnet II. (p. 102).

Here again Drummond is largely indebted to
Marino. In the first four lines he has paraphrased
the commencement of a sonnet by the Italian poet
{Rime, Part I., p. 155) : —

' ' Gli occhi leggiadri, a' cui soavi honesti
Sguardi di mill' alme ardean d'alti desiri :

NOTES 223

E da' cui vivi e lucidi zafifiri

Scorno haveano e splendor gli occhi celesti."
Lines 5-8, moreover, seem to owe their suggestion
to a passage in another of Marino's sonnets (Part L,

p. 153) :- ^

" Le vive nevi, oime, le vive rose^
E le perle, e i rubini, e I'ostro, e Toro,
Dove, dove son hor ? "

Sonnet III. (p. 103).
I know not if the poet, in writing these very touch-
ing verses, had any thought of Petrarch, but lines
6-9 suggest a passage, not less affecting, in one of
Petrarch's sonnets (Part II., Son. 24), where, recalling
the beauties of his dead mistress, he exclaims : —

" Poca polvere son, che nulla sente:
Ed io pur vivo ! "

Sonnet IV. (p. 104).
Translated, the conclusion excepted, from the
seventeenth sonnet of Sanazzaro {Opere volgari, 1723 :
P- 343)j which I subjoin : —

" O vita, vita nb, ma vivo affanno,
Nave di vetro in mar di cieco errore,
Sotto pioggia di pianto, e di dolore,
Che sempre cresce con vergogna e danno;
Le tue false promesse, e '1 vero inganno
M' han privo si d'ogni speranza il core,
Ch' io porto invidia a quel che son gia fore,
Ed ho pieta degli altri che verranno.
Quando vid' io mai di sereno, o lieto ?
Quando passo quest' alma ora tranquilla ?

224 NOTES

Quando il mio cor fu libero, o quieto ?
Quando sentii mai scenia una favilla
Deir incendio 'nfelice, ov' io m' acqueto,
Per pill non ritentar Cariddi, e Scilla ? "

The last three lines of Drummond's sonnet are
borrowed from the corresponding lines of the fifteenth
of Sanazzaro (i/'td. p. 342) : —

*' Un sol rimedio veggio al viver corto ;
Che avendo a navigar mar si profondo,
Uom raccolga la vela, e mora in porto."

Sonnet VI. (p. 106).

The first two lines are translated from these of
Marino {Rime, Part I., p. 154) : —

" Anima bella, che 'n su '1 fior degli anni
Per arricchir di te I'empirea spera," &c.

But the substance of the whole sonnet is evidently
borrowed from the following, which is also by Marinu
{ibid. p. 150) : —

" Alma gentil, ch' anzi gran tempo Tale
Lieta spiegasti agli stellanti giri,
Ov' hor nel divin Sol vagheggi e miri
Te stessa, e '1 tuo splendor non piu mortale :
Deh, se non vieta in ciel legge fatale
Talhora in nostri udir bassi desiri,
A me china le luci, e de' martiri
Mira lo stuol, ch' ognor per te m' assale.
E se mole non ergo, ove lasciasti
La terrestre quagiu lacera spoglia,

NOTES 225

Che degli anni al furor salda contrast! :
Prendilo in pace, e la pietosa voglia
Gradisci, e '1 pianto, ond' io la lavo, e basti,
Che '1 cor viva Piraniide 1' accoglia."

Madrigal I. (p. 107).

Aliered, though without improvement, from the
following beautiful madrigal of Guarini, entitled
"Humana fragilita " (Mad. 132: J^tme del Sig.
Cavaliere Battista Guarini, Venice, 1598) : —

" Questa vita mortale,
Che par si bella, e quasi piuma al vento,
Che la porta, e la perde in un momento.
E s'ella pur con temerari giri
Tal 'or s'avanza, e sale,
E librata su I'ale

Pender da se nel'aria anco la miri ;
E sol, perche di sua natura e leve :
Ma poco dura, e 'n breve
Dopo mille rivolte, e mille strade,
Perch' ella e pur di terra, a terra cade."

Song I. (p. 109).

And this of late so gloriotis world of ours, Like
meadow without Jlow'rs, Or ring of a rich gem made
blind, appear- d (lines 51-53). Compare Petrarch
(Part II., Son, 67) :—

" Pianger I'aer e la terra e '1 mar dovrebbe
L'uman legnaggio, che senz' ella e quasi
Senza fior prato, o senza gemma anello."
VOL. I. p

226 NOTES

Or as that shepha'd which Jove's love did keep (line
123). Argus with the hundred eyes, who guarded
Jove's love, lo.

Sonnet IX. (p. 116).

Petrarch has a pretty sonnet on the same theme
(Part II., Son. 42), beginning : —

*' Zefiro torna, e '1 bel tempo rimena,
E i fiori e I'erbe, sua dolce famiglia."

Drummond's sonnet may possibly have been sug-
gested by this, but the resemblance is not very close.
To the poetical reader it "uill perhaps recall Gray's
exquisite sonnet on the death of West.

Madrigal III. (p. 118).

Translated, and adapted to his own case, by Drum-
mond, from the following madrigal of Guarinij headed
" Bella Donna Campata " (Mad. 130 : Ritne^ 1598):—

' ' Pendeva a debil filo
(O dolore, O pietate)
De la novella mia terrena dea
La vita, e la beltate ;
E gia I'ultimo spirito trahea
L'anima per uscire,

Ne mancava a morire altro, che morte ;
Quando sue fere scorte,
Mirando ella si bella in quel bel viso,
Disse, morte non entra in Paradiso."

NOTES 227

Sonnet XI. (p. 119).

I laiiiider thy fai7' figures in this brine (line 12).
This line is borrowed from Shakespeare. Compare
A Lover's Complaint, stanza 3 : —

" Oft did she heave her napkin to her ejmc,
Which on it had conceited characters,
Laund'ring the silken figures in the brine
That seasoned woe had pelleted in tears."

Madrigal IV. (p. 120).

Translated from Tasso {Rime, Venice, 1608 : Part
l\., p. 99) :—

" O vaga tortorella,
Tu la tua compagnia
Ed io piango colei, die non fu mia.
Misera vedovelln,
Tu sovra il nudo ramo,
A' pie del secco tronco io la richiamo.
Ma I'aura solo, e '1 vento
Risponde mormorando al mio lamento."

Song II. (p. 124).

This beautiful poem presents our author in his most
philosophic mood. To contrast it with the pieces
written by Petrarch upon a similar theme, is to set
in the clearest light the most vital distinction between
Drummond and the Itahan poets, whom he so often
and so happily imitated. Petrarch, too, is visited in
dreams by the apparition of his dead mistress. In the
sixth Canzone of the second part of his poems, he
tells how in a vision he saw her, and of the words of

228 NOTES

hope and comfort which she spoke. It is all perfectly
sweet and simple. She is happy in heaven, and he is
to implore God's help, and to follow her; the Canzone
concluding with an impassioned prayer to the Virgin
Mary for aid and guidance. Nothing is there of the
mystic philosophy which shines with steady radiance
throughout the greater part of Drummond's poem
In his Italian masters — Marino, perhaps, on some
rare occasions, excepted — he would find little of the
philosophy which is so striking a characteristic of his
own most thoughtful work ; nor could he learn much
in this respect from the English poets, his contem-
poraries or predecessors. His philosophy is Platonic :
in his later writings it is modified in the direction
of Christianity ; less so in the poem now before
us, a part of which, indeed, is little more than a
poetical adaptation of a portion of the Ph^do. In
Drummond's most philosophical production — the
prose essay entitled A Cypress Grove, which he
published in 1623 together with his Flowers of Sion
— many passages from the present poem are expanded
or repeated ; but as the reader will find a reprint of
the entire essay in the second volume, I shall not
quote from it in this place.

Some wise sayings concerning Death may be noted.
How long wilt thou esteem that loss which, well when
viewed, is gain (line 39)? Even as thy birth, death,
which doth thee appal, A piece is of the life of this
great All (lines 57-58). And once more : / live, and
happy live, hut thou art dead. And still shall be, till
thou be like Die made (lines 105-106). This last con-
ception is profoundly philosophical. The soul is con-
.fined in the body as in a tomb, and its life here is said

NOTES 229

to be death in comparison with that which it enjoys
when free from the encumbrance of matter. Thus
Heracleitus, speaking of disembodied souls, has these
words : " We live their death, and we die their life."

Tkts temple visible, zuhicli World we na}?ie (line
112). ''World" is here, of course, used in the sense
of KocTjuos, the visible universe. The argument of the
following portion of the poem is chiefly borrowed from
the Phczdo. I am persuaded, says Socrates, "that
the earth is prodigiously great ; that we who dwell in
places extending from Phasis to the pillars of Hercules,
inhabit only a certain small portion of it, about the
Mediterranean sea, like ants or frogs about a marsh ;
and that there are many others elsewhere, who dwell
in many such-like places. For I am persuaded, that
there are everywhere about the earth many hollow
places of all -various forms and magnitudes, into
which there is a confluence of water, mists, and air ;
but that the earth itself, which is of a pure nature, is
situated in the pure heavens, in which the stars are
contained, and which most of those who are accus-
tomed to speak about such particulars denominate
aether. But the places which we inhabit are nothing
more than the dregs of this pure earth, or cavities
into which its dregs continually flow. We are ignorant,
therefore, that we dwell in the cavities of this earth,
and imagine that we inhabit its upper parts. Just as
if some one dwelling in the bottom of the sea, should
think that he resided on its surface, and, beholding
the sun and the other stars through the water, should
imagine that the sea is the heavens ; but through sloth
and imbecility having never ascended to the top of the
sea, nor emerged from its deeps into this region, has

230 NOTES

never perceived how much purer and more beautiful it
is than the place which he inhabits, nor has received this
information from any other who has beheld this place
of our abode. In the very same manner are we
affected : for, dwelling in a certain hollow of the earth,
we think that we reside on its surface ; and we call
the air heaven, as if the stars passed through this, as
through the heavens themselves " (Thomas Taylor's
translation. Compare Drummond, lines 141-170).
These upper regions of the earth are far more beauti-
ful than the parts which we inhabit, and possess
everything which nature here brings forth in far
greater perfection (compare line 121 ei seq.). But
hear Socrates again: "This [upper] earth too con-
tains many other animals and men, some of whom
inhabit its middle parts ; others dwell about the air,
as we do about the sea ; and others reside in islands
which the air flows round, and which are situated
not far from the continent. And in one word, what
water and the sea are to us, with respect to utility,
that air is to them : but what air is to us, that sether
is to the inhabitants of this pure earth. But the
seasons there are endued with such an excellent
temperament, that the inhabitants are never molested
with disease, and live for a much longer time than
those who dwell in our regions ; and they surpass
us in sight, hearing, and pmdence, and everything
of this kind, as much as air excels water in purity —
and aether, air. And besides this, they have groves
and temples of the Gods, in which the Gods dwell in
reality ; and likewise oracles and divinations, and
sensible perceptions of the Gods, and such-like asso-
ciations with them. The sun, loo, and moon, and

NOTES 231

stars are seen by theai such as they really are ; and
in every other respect their felicity is of a correspon-
dent nature." And lastly, Socrates, speaking of that
which happens to the soul after death, says: "But
those who shall appear to have lived most excellently,
with respect to piety — these are they who, being
liberated and dismissed from these places in the
earth, as from the abodes of a prison, shall arrive
at the pure habitation on high, and dwell on the
sethereal earth. And among these, those who are
sufficiently purified by philosophy shall live without
bodies through the whole of the succeeding time, and
shall arrive at habitations yet more beautiful than
these, which it is neither easy to describe, nor is the
present time sufficient for such an undertaking."

Undoubtedly Drummond had conjoined in his
mind some notion of the Christian heaven, and
even of the intelligible world, with that of Plato's
upper earth. But Plato's meaning was widely dif-
ferent from Drummond's. It must be remem-
bered that, according to the Platonic doctrine, the
earth is an animal, endued with intellect and soul.
Now the soul of the earth, like the soul of man,
possesses three vehicles or bodies ; of which the first
is simple and immaterial, the second simple and
material, and the third composite and material. Of
these vehicles, moreover, the first is called ethereal
and luciform, and is analogous to the body of the
heavens ; and it contains the summits of the elements
incorruptibly and unitedly, and according to a celestial
characteristic ; but fire predominates, viz., the celestial
fire which is vivific but not destructive. And finally,
it is vital, and is perpetually generated through the

232 IVOTES

whole of time, and it is immaterial as compared with
corruptible bodies. The second vehicle is called
aerial, and is indeed the first vehicle of the soul which
is properly called a body ; for it is composed of the
pure elements, and is material and mutable, although
in a less degree than the third vehicle. But the third,
in which the elements are no longer pure, is this
terrestrial globe which we commonly call the earth ;
and it is enclosed in the second vehicle, as a small
globe in a greater. Thus the first and second vehicles
are the media which connect the immaterial soul with
this gross body, since, as Proclus says, ' ' The progres-
sion of things is nowhere without a medium, but exists
according to a well ordered gradation." Plato's upper
earth is then the middle vehicle of the earth-soul, and
is placed in the pure heavens, beyond the grosser
elements of this terrestrial globe ; and there the
elements are pure, as being more proximate to their
divine causes. And whatever subsists according to
nature in our lower eartli, will subsist in proportion-
ately greater purity in this upper earth, as again the
whole is essentially in the intelligible world, which
is the eternal paradigm of this All. But the souls
which descend from the intelligible world into gener-
ation upon the earth, proceed first to the aethereal
vehicle or celestial earth, possessing themselves a
corresponding vehicle, connate with their mundane
existence. Next, gathering from the elements as
they descend a material vehicle, they dwell, in aerial
bodies, on the upper earth, the second vehicle,
namely, but first material body, of the earth-soul.
Finally, obtaining a grosser vehicle, they descend
into this composite body of the earth, which we now

NOTES 233

inhabit. And the reascent takes place through the
same media. For souls which have lived here a guilt-
less life, but without philosophy, proceed, after death,
to the upper earth, and dwell there in aerial vehicles ;
but being not yet released from the bonds of matter,
they are still subject to death, although from the
purity of the elements there, they are far longer lived
than we. The souls which have attained a more
perfect liberation are raised to their kindred star, as
Plato says : i.e. , to the cethereal vehicle of that mun-
dane soul under which they are arranged, and which
in our case is the earth ; and they dwell there with luci-
form. vehicles. And those which are completely purified
may rise yet higher, proceeding, beyond time itself,
to the intelligible world whence they were derived.

O leave that love which reacheth but to dust (line
197"). This verse is borrowed from Sidney, who has
in one of his sonnets the following line : —

*' Leave me, O Love, which reachest but to dust."

To THE Author (p. 133).

This sonnet, by Sir David Murray of Gorthy, is
printed in the edition of 16 16 immediately after
Urania ; but as it relates particularly to the " Poems/'
I have inserted it here.

URANIA, OR SPIRITUAL POEMS (p. 137).

Of the thirteen poems published under this title,
ten were republished by Drummond in his Flowers
of Sion, 1623, but with certain alterations. I have
therefore retained both versions. In the first of the

234 NOTES

sonnets (p. 137) Drummond is again in his philosophic
mood : sec especially lines 9-14. u4// oniy constant
is in constant change, is finely said of \\\\^ floating world
beneath the moon. For in the sensible world, all is con-
stantly becomings but never really is ; since matter
itself, as is beautifully explained by Plotinus {Ennead.
III., Lib. VI., 7), is no other than non-being ; and
" the forms which appear to exist in matter, are empty
shows {-rraiyvLa — toys), shadows in a shadow, just as
in a mirror the object appears to be there, while in
reality it is elsewhere ; and seeming to possess sub-
stance, possesses indeed nothing." That which is
above time, motion, place (line 13), is the intelligible
world, of which this visible universe is the reflection.

Sonnet, "Come Forth," &c. (p. 138).

Partly translated from the following portion of a
sonnet by Marino {Rime, 1602 : Part I., p. 195) : —

" Uscite, uscite a rimirar, pietose
Schiere del Paradiso cittadine,
II vostro Re schernito ; e qual su '1 crine
Novo e stranio diadema Amor gli pose :
Dale tempie traffitte e sanguinose
II vivo humor dele purpuree brine
Vci rasciugate ; e dal' acute spine
Venite a cor le gia cadenti rose."

Sonnet, "Thrice Happy He," &c. (p. 141).

Translated by Drummond, doubtless with much
sympathy, from the following sonnet by Marino
{Rime, Part I., p. 177) :—

NOTES 235

Felice e ben chi selva ombrosa e folta
Cerca, e ricovra in solitaria vita :
Ivi mai non e sola alma romita,
Ma fra gli angeli stessi a Dio rivolta.
O quanto la piii volentier s'ascolta
Di semplicetto augel voce gradita,
Che 'n regio albergo, ov' e la fe mentita,
Vanto di turba adulatrice, e stolta.
Quanto e piu dolce un venticel di bosco,
Ch' aura vana d'honor : quanto tra fiori
D'argento un rio, che 'n vasel d'oro il tosco.
Hanno i sacri silentij e i muti horrori
Armonia vera, e pace ; e I'ombra e '1 fosco
Mille vivi del ciel lam pi, e splendori."

MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS.

The Statue of Medusa (p. 149).

No doubt suggested by the following epigram by
Antonio Tibaldeo {Delitice Poet, Italorum^ collectore
Ramitio Ghcro, 1 608 : vol. ii. p. I151) : —

IN MEDUSA CAPUT.

" Exemptam media de Palladis segide dicas
Gorgona, quam parvo claudit in orbe lapis.
Quin et monstrifici perstant miracula vultus ;

Vivit, et innumero palpitat angue caput.
Tam similis non ipsa sibi est ; se forsitan olini
Vidit, et a speculo saxea facta suo est."

236 NOTES

The Trojan Horse (p. 149).

In the Greek Anthology is an epigram on this
subject by Antiphilus of Byzantium {Anthol. Palatin,
vol. ii. p. 30), but it has little or no resemblance to
Drummond's.

A Lover's Heaven (p. 150).

Probably suggested by the forty-first madrigal of
Marino, which is headed " Celia rassomigliata al
Cielo." The last two lines are : —

" S'un ciel reggessi di bellezze tante

Fra queste bracia, O me felice Atlante ! "

loLAs' Epitaph (p. 151).

The conclusion of this epitaph was perhaps sug-
gested by the following dainty little madrigal of
Guarini (Mad. 134) : —

EPITAFIO DI PARGOLETTA VIOLANTE.

" Se vuoi saper chi sono,

O tu, che miri la brev' urna ; piagni.

Spuntera dal mio cenere, se '1 bagni

D'una tua lagrimetta,

Un' odorata e vaga violetta,

E cosi dal tuo dono

Intenderai chi sono."

Sleeping Beauty (p. 154).

The conceit in the last two lines of this pretty
madrigal is also to be found in Guarini, who, in a

NOTES 237

madrigal to his mistress's eyes (Mad. 12), ex-
claims—

" Se chiusi m' uccidete,
Aperti che farete ? "

Of Phillis (p. 154).

Borrowed from the thirty-first madrigal of Marino
{Ri?iie, Part II., p. 38). Drummond's version, how-
ever, is more picturesque and more concise than the
original, which I subjoin : —

" Mentre Lidia premea
Dentro rustica coppa
A la lanuta la feconda poppa,
r stava a rimirar doppio candore
Di natura e d'amore :
Ne distinguer sapea
II bianco humor dale sue mani intatte,
Ch' altro non discernea, che latte in latte."

Of her Dog (p. 158).

Suggested by a sonnet of Marino {Rime^ Part I.,
p. 34). I quote the lines to which Drummond was
here indebted : —

" Mentre nel grembo a trastuUar ti stai
Dela mia donna humilemente altero,
Vezzoso animaletto, e lusinghiero,
Ond' invido e geloso altrui ne fai :
Ardo, e vie piu nel cor, lasso, che mai
Sento I'usato ardor possente, e fero,
Forse pero, che '1 mio Sol vivo, e vero,
Vibra nel Can vie piii cocenti i rai."

238 NOTES

Of Amintas (p. 159).

Compare the following epigram by Francesco Pani-
garola {Delilicc Poet. ItaL, vol. ii. p. 176) : —

DE lOLA.

" Cum nudum lymphis se credere vellet lolas,
Efifigiem fonti vidit inesse suam :
Nee semet noscens, comites io currite, dixit,
Depositis alis ecce Cupido natat."

Pamphilus (p. 160).

The name and character of this Pamphilus are
borrowed from Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, Book II.,
where the story is told of the inconstancy of Pam-
philus, and the revenge taken upon him by the ladies
whom he had deceived.

Of a Bee (p. 161).

Translated, with variations, from the following
madrigal by Tasso [Rime, Venice, 1608 : Part IV.,
p. 104) :—

" Qual cavagliero ardito

A le famose prove

II sonoro imetallo accende, e move ;

Tal zenzaretta fiera

Zuffola intorno, e vola,

E vi percuote poi la bianca gola.

O mirabil guerriera,

In cui natura giunge

La tromba a I'arme, ond' ella suona, e punge."

NOTES 239

Of a Kiss (p. 161).

This, again, is borrowed from Tasso {Scielta dclU
Rime, &c., Ferrara, 1582 : Part I., p. 50) :—

" Ne i vostri dolci bad
Del' api e il dolce mele,
E vi e il morso del' api anco crudele.
Dunque addolcito e pun to
Da voi parto in un punto."

Craton's Death (p. 164).

Possibly suggested by an epigram of Julianus the
Egyptian {Antholog. Falatin., vol. i. p. 386), of
which the first two lines are these : —

My^Swp repfxa ^ioco \ax^v, olvtocttoKos ^\dev
ecs atdrjv, peKvoju Tropd/xidos 6v xarewv.

I.e., Mygdon, having reached the end of nis life, came
self-equipped to Hades, not needing the boat of the
dead.

Lilla's Prayer (p. 165).

From the following madrigal by Guarini (Mad.
109), entitled " Donna Accorta " : —

" Se vuoi ch' io tomi a le tue fiamme, Amore,
Non far idolo il core
Ne di fredda vecchiezza,
Ne d'incostante e pazza giovanezza.
Dammi, se puoi, Signore,
Cor saggio in bel sembiantc,
Canuto amore in non canuto amante.'

240 NOTES

The Statue of Adonis (p. i68).

Translated from the following epigram by Giovanni
Antonio Volpi {Delit. Poet. Ital., vol. ii. pp. 1452-3): —

IN STATUAM ADONIDIS.

" Ciim Cytherea procul Parium spectaret Adonim,

Accurrens tales fudit ab ore sonos :
Quis deploratum nobis te reddit, Adoni ?

Queeve tibi lucem fata dedere novam ?
Dixit, et ad caros amplexus laeta cucurrit,

Figeret ut niveis oscula pressa genis.
Ast aprum aspiciens, nova vulnera dente minantem,

Semianimis trepido concidit icta metu.
Vivere quis neget bos lapides? si incendit Adonis

Corda Dese forma, vulnere terret aper.'

The Rose (p. 169).

Translated from the following madrigal by Tasso
{Scielta delle Rime, &c., 1582 : Part II., p. 64) : —

" O del sangue d'Adone
Nato fior, quando un altro ancor del'acque
Lacrimose di Venere ne nacque,
II bel morto garzone
Tu vivo rappresenti ;
Ma la spina pungente,
Che cinge il giro tuo purpureo, e vago,
Di chi diremo imago ?
Forse figura del cinghial il dente ?
O bel mostro tra mostri,
Ch' in un I'ucciso e I'uccisor dimostri ! "

In Bion's first Idyll the rose is said to have sprung

NOTES 241

from the blood of Adonis, and the anemone from the
tears shed by Venus upon his death, Cynarean
(line 4) should doubtless be Cinyrean, from Cinyras,
the father of Adonis.

Kala's Complaint (p. 172).

From a Latin epigram by P. Zanchi {Delit. Poet,
ItaL, vol. ii. p. 148 1).

The Happiness of a Flea (p, 173).

From Tasso {Rime, Venice, 1608: Part IV., p.
104):—

" Questa lieve zenzara
Quanto ha sorte migliore
Dela farfalla, che s'infiamma, e more,
L'una di chiaro foco,
Di gentil sangue e vaga
L'altra, che vive di si bella piaga.
O fortunate loco
Tra '1 mento, e '1 casto petto,
Altrove non fu mai maggior diletto. "

Of that Same (p. 173).

Again from Tasso {ibid.. Part IV., p. 104): —

* ' Tu moristi in quel seno,
Piccioletta zenzara,
Dov' e si gran fortuna il venir meno.
Quando fin piu beato,
O ver tomba piu cara,
Fu mai concesso da benigno fato ?
Pelice tu, felice
Piu che nel rego oriental Fenice ! ■'

VOL. I. Q

242 NOTES

Love Naked (p. 174).

This is from the Italian, but I have not succeeded
in tracing the original. There is a version of the
same by Crashaw, which I subjoin : —

OUT OF THE ITALIAN.

" Would any one the true cause find
How Love came nak'd, a boy, and blind ?
'Tis this : list'ning one day too long
To th' Syrens in my mistress' song,
The ecstasy of a delight
So much o'er-mast'ring all his might,
To that one sense made all else thrall,
And so he lost his clothes, eyes, heart and all."

NiOBE (p. 174).

Translated from the following verses by Bernardo
Accolti {Rime di diversi Auiori, Venice, 1550 ) : —

*' Niobe son, legga mia sorte dura
Chi miser e, e non chi mai si dolse.
Sette, e sette figliuoi mi die natura,
E sette, e sette un giorno sol mi tolse.
Poi fu al marmo il marmo sepoltura,
Perche '1 Ciel me regina in pietra volse ;
E se non credi, apri '1 sepolcro basso,
Cener non troverai, ma sasso in sasso."

Upon a Portrait (p. 176).

In the edition of 1656 this sonnet appears with the
heading, "On the Pourtrait of the Countesse of

NOTES 243

Perthe." The three following pieces relate to the
same subject. This lady was Jean, daughter of
Robert Ker, first Earl of Roxburgh, and wife of
John Drummond, second Earl of Perth, who suc-
ceeded to the title upon the death of his elder brother,
James, in December 161 1. Earl John was a man of
learning and literary tastes : five of the poet Drum-
mond's letters to him, chiefly on heraldic or genea-
logical matters, are extant, and have been published.
His Countess " lived in great esteem with all that
knew her, and died much regretted about the year
1622" {Gemalogy of the House of Drummond^ by
William Drummond, Viscount Strathallan : Edin-
burgh, 1 83 1 : p. 208). She died young, although the
mother of seven children.

I think Drummond was indebted for the hint of this
graceful sonnet to Marino, a sonnet by whom {Ritne,
Part I., p. 205) begins with the following lines : —

" La Dea, che 'n Cipro, e 'n Amathunta impera,
Quando, o dove a te, Fidia, ignuda apparse?
Forse quando I'Egeo, che d'amor n' arse,
Solco nascente in su la conca altera ?
O pur' allhor, che dala terza spera
Al Troiano pastor venne a mostrarse ? "

Upon that Same (p. 176).

The blushing morn The red must lendy the milky
way the white (lines lo-il). Compare Marino {Rime^
Part I., p. 202, Sonnet) : —

'* L'ostro schietto al' Aurora, il lattc tolse
Al bel calle stellato, e '1 santo viso,
E la beata fronte ornar ne volse. "

244 NOTES

Eurymedon's Prai.se of Mira (p. i8o).

Two Phcenixes be now, lovers qiuens are two^ Four
Graces, Muses ten, all made by you (lines II-12).
Compare the following anonymous epigram from the
Greek Anthology {Anthol Palatm., vol. i. p. 76) : —

Teccrapes a: Xa/jtres, Jlatpiai dvo, Kai oeku Movaai.
AepKvXls ev irdaais Movaa, Xdpis, 'n.a<pl7}.

I.e., Four are the Graces, Venuses two, and ten the
Muses ; among them all is Dercylis, a Muse, a Grace,
a Venus.

Compare also Drummond's posthumous " Epitaph
of one named Margaret. "

Erycine at the Departure of Alexis (p. 182).

Alexis is Sir William Alexander, the author of
the following sonnet, headed "Alexis to Damon" ;
Damon being, of course, Drummond himself. Alex-
ander's sonnet concludes the Madrigals and Epigrams
in the edition of 1616, and is here retained, both on
account of its connection with the sonnet by Drum-
mond which immediately precedes it, and as an
interesting testimony to the close friendship which
subsisted between the two poets.

FORTH FEASTING (p. 189).

To spare the hicmble, proudlitigs pester down (line
164). King James's motto, "Parcere subjectis et
debellare superbos."

NOTES 245

T/wii siin^st away the hours, till from their
sphere Stars seeni'd to shoot, thy melody to hear
(lines 173-174). Compare A Midsumjner Night's
Dream, Act II., Sc. i :—

" And certain stars shot madly from their spheres
To hear the sea-maid's music."

There is a land . , , Which, homelings,from this
little world we name (lines 321-323). Drummond
probably alludes to the colony of New Scotland.

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